


Secret Dreamer

by Arvanion



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Background Relationships, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, F/F, Family Drama, Family Feels, Festivals, Fluff and Angst, Military Training, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Romance, Slow Burn, The Future Past Timeline, The Very Slowest Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 65,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5071417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arvanion/pseuds/Arvanion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"<i>That sort of thing... telling someone you love them... takes a lot of courage. Mother was the bravest woman I know. Much braver than I am.</i>"</p><p>Only a few months have passed since Exalt Lucina and her friends, aided by travelers from the past, performed the Awakening and saved the world. Although the war is over, its scars--both mental and physical--still remain. As Severa settles into the routine of serving Lucina as one of her faithful knights, she must come to terms with her feelings toward the Exalt, and their possible consequences.</p><p>This fic is set in the timeline of "The Future Past," after the final battle with Grima.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While training to become a pegasus knight in order to better serve her Exalt, Severa thinks back on the events that brought her to this point.

Severa set her feet and drove her lance forward, sinking it deep into the straw dummy in front of her, and nodded in satisfaction. The tip of the lance had pierced through where a bandit's heart would be, and a wound like that would give even one of the Risen pause. She pulled the lance out, grunting slightly with effort, and assumed her combat stance again.

She was the only one on the training ground: the rest of the pegasus knights had finished with their drills almost half an hour ago and had headed off to the bathhouse. Severa, however, had remained behind, continuing to run through the exercises. When she had joined the pegasus knights, most of her fighting experience had been with the sword, not the lance. She was steadily improving, but she still had a long way to go before she was the equal of her mother. _Wouldn't you love to see this, Mother? Hmph. It's not like I'm doing this to follow in your footsteps..._

Thinking of Cordelia gave Severa a brief pang of sorrow, mixed with irritation. Despite her frequent bitter words and quarreling, Severa had loved her mother dearly, and—though she was reluctant to admit it, even to herself—admired her a great deal as well. Cordelia's devotion to the Exalt's family had been incredible, even if it _had_ been because she was mooning over Chrom at the time.

Severa stomped her way down away from the dummy until she was a few paces beyond the usual throwing distance, thinking to herself as she went. _She should have just told him how she felt. Gods!_ She turned about and hurled the lance in one smooth motion. Her throw was off, however, and the lance bounced harmlessly off. Severa clucked her tongue in annoyance as she went to retrieve it. Her steps back were slower, more thoughtful. _Still, I guess I can understand why she didn't speak up. That sort of thing... telling someone you love them... takes a lot of courage._

As she bent to pick up the lance, an unbidden vision of flowing blue hair, strong arms, a shining sword, and a ringing voice passed through Severa's mind. She closed her eyes tightly. _Mother was the bravest woman I know. Much braver than I am._

She rammed her lance into the dummy with much more force than was necessary, feeling a solid _thunk_ as its point bit into the wooden core that the straw was lashed around. Her first attempt to tug the lance free was unsuccessful. _Oh, great._ She frowned and tugged again, this time harder, but it was no good: the lance was firmly planted. _I suppose that I should be impressed with how well I did, but instead I'm just pissed off._ She spat on her gloves to get a better grip, set her feet, and leaned back, pulling with all of her strength.

For several seconds, nothing happened. Then, quite abruptly, the lance slipped free with a loud splintering sound. Severa, unprepared, lost her balance and fell back, landing hard on her rear. “Ow!” She shook her head. “Ugh. _Typical_.”

“Sevvy!” caroled a high voice. Severa turned to see Cynthia, her still-damp hair pulled up into her customary pigtails, waving cheerily at her from the other side of the practice grounds. Severa got to her feet hurriedly, blushing slightly and hoping that Cynthia hadn't witnessed that... disgraceful display.

“Uh, hey, Cynthia,” said Severa, trying to dust herself off as nonchalantly as she could. _Great, the last thing that I need is for her to start making fun of me..._

“I didn't think you'd still be out here training,” said Cynthia, smiling broadly. _That big, goofy grin of hers. Like she doesn't have a care in the world. I wish_ I _could be that completely clueless. Gods..._

“W-well, I have to make sure that I'm the best pegasus knight I can be. After all, the order has a pretty impressive legacy to live up to—both our mothers were members.” She winced. _Oh yes, smooth._ Real _smooth, Severa. I don't want her crying because I brought this up..._

Cynthia, however, slapped Severa enthusiastically on the back with enough force to knock her slightly off-balance. “Ha, I knew it! You want to be a hero of justice too, don't you? And don't lie! I can tell when you're lying.”

“It's not like that!” Severa protested. “I just... I was just thinking about the last big battle that we fought together, and I guess... well, I really...” She trailed off, staring off to the side in embarrassment.

“You mean how _totally awesome_ our moms were, right?” Cynthia said eagerly. “It was incredible, the way that they fought! Swooping all over the place, their lances piercing the dark hearts of our wicked foes... they really did live up to their legends!”

 _Except those weren't our real mothers,_ Severa thought. True, the Sumia and Cordelia who had appeared to save them in the final battle had looked genuine, but they were from another time and place. In this world, they had been dead for years. She was grateful, of course—grateful to the Cordelia who had saved her and bought time for Lucina to save the world—but that Cordelia would never be her real mother.

Aloud, she said, “Yeah. They sure did.”

“Well, anyway, that's not why I came out here,” said Cynthia, bouncing to a different subject with dizzying speed. “We just finished up in the bathhouse, and we were going to head off to eat pretty soon, but I thought it would really stink for you if you got left behind.”

“Thanks for the thought, I guess,” said Severa. “You don't have to wait for me, though. I still need to take a bath, and I can find dinner on my own.”

“Are you sure?” Cynthia looked concerned. “We really would wait for you. The code of the pegasus knights is to never leave a comrade behind, after all!” She gave another one of her broad smiles, eyes closed, at that remark. Severa fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Yeah, I'm sure. I'm probably going to be in the bath for awhile, and I don't want you to get hungry.”

“Oh. Well, okay!” Cynthia nodded and waved. “See ya, Sevvy!” And, just as abruptly as her goodbye, she was gone, skipping away to join the rest of her knight-sisters for dinner.

Severa made her solitary way back to the armory and hung her lance back up on one of the racks. That done, she headed to the women's baths. _A nice, long soak will do me good._ The outer room was empty—the rest of the knights had already cleared out. Severa quickly stripped off her sweat-soaked practice gear, leaving it in a heap on the floor, and unbound her hair from its usual tails. After grabbing a clean towel from the rack, she headed into the baths proper.

She washed hastily, wanting to get the dirt and grime of training off as soon as possible. After a few rinses, she judged herself clean enough to leave the washroom and headed for the main pool. Once there, she sunk into the warm water with a sigh of contentment, immersing herself almost completely.

With only her face above the water, Severa stared up at the ceiling, thinking back again to the battle that Cynthia had brought up earlier. Severa had been traveling with Laurent and Gerome to retrieve the Fire Emblem and Argent from the hands of the Plegian Grimleal. When they had returned to Ylisstol in triumph, however, they had found Lucina in despair: Mount Prism had been defiled, and Naga's Voice slain at the hands of Grima's servants.

Severa had wanted to comfort Lucina so badly that it had _ached_. She'd wanted to give her a shoulder to cry on, to hold the princess in her arms, to tell her that everything would be all right... but the arrival of Grima and the Fell Dragon's minions had put an end to that.

And then, almost without thinking, Severa had been the first to place herself between Lucina and Grima. _What was I trying to prove by sacrificing myself? That I was as brave as Mother? Or... was it something else?_

She let out a heavy sigh. _Ugh. Why am I dwelling on this, anyway? This is pointless._

The sound of footsteps came from the entrance to the washroom, and Severa frowned. _I thought that everyone else had left... unless..._ She turned her head to call out the door. “Cynthia, I told you that you could go on without... me...”

Severa's voice trailed off. The woman who walked through the door was not Cynthia. Flowing blue hair, strong arms, and a body covered in scars. The Exalt smiled. “Hello, Severa. May I join you?”

_Gods... Lucina._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The initial idea for this fic originally came from [a Lucisev fanart](http://lithelotus.tumblr.com/post/131757963834) by lithelotus. You should definitely give her work a look if you have a chance!
> 
> (note that the linked fanart is relatively NSFW, so exercise moderation)  
> 


	2. Reminiscence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severa does her best to carry on a normal conversation with Lucina, talking about the battles they've fought, their hopes for the future, and their fond memories of the past.

Severa sat in embarrassed silence for a long moment. Lucina had wrapped up in a towel, but it left most of her legs bare. Severa's eyes were drawn to the scars criss-crossing the princess's calves and thighs: marks of sword and axe cuts, or the teeth and claws of the beasts they'd fought together. _There are so many of them..._

“Severa?” Lucina's tone was puzzled, and Severa realized that she was staring. She hurriedly averted her eyes, embarrassed.

“Uh, I don't mind,” She was glad for the warmth of the pool: it made her blush much less obvious. Severa heard the rustling of cloth as Lucina laid her towel aside, and felt the ripple as the other woman slipped into the pool on her right side, but she kept her eyes forward until she was reasonably sure that Lucina was mostly covered by the water.

After a moment, she risked a glance over. Lucina was leaning back, eyes closed and arms resting on the rim of the pool. Her left shoulder, closest to Severa, was scarred as well: a series of parallel slashes, likely from the claws of one of the Risen. _Even after all this time, they still look so fresh..._

“Has your training been going well?”

The question caught Severa off-guard, and she blinked several times before responding. “Yes, Luci—uh, that is, Your Grace.”

Lucina smiled at her. “So formal! You realize you can just call me by my name, right?”

“I...” Severa cleared her throat. “Uh, sorry, Lucina. I just felt like... well, you're the Exalt now, and as a pegasus knight, I should treat you with a bit more respect. You know, to set an example.”

Lucina chuckled. “You sound like your mother.”

Severa coughed. “Do you really think so?”

“I do. You're just as dedicated as she was.”

 _In more ways than you know._ “Hmph.” Severa turned away huffily, crossing her arms.

For a long moment, the only sound was the quiet dripping of the water, the slight splashes as the ripples from their movement struck the edge. Then, softly, Lucina spoke. “Severa?”

“What?” Severa's reply was more snappish than usual, and she still remained staring away.

“I'm sorry.”

Severa stiffened. “What do you have to be sorry for?!”

“I know that you don't like being compared to your mother, and I shouldn't have—”

Severa turned around, sending more waves rippling down the length of the bath, and cut Lucina off before she could continue. “Look, Lucina, it's not that, it's just... well...” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I was talking to Cynthia just a little while ago. About the last battle against Grima and how...” She trailed off.

There was another long, quiet moment, as the waters slowly settled. “And what?” said Lucina, her voice gentle.

“How we thought we... no, we _saw_ our parents.” Severa stared at her distorted reflection in the water, her face troubled. “It hardly seems real, does it? But I know it was. We spoke to them, fought alongside them... and when my mother hugged me, I...” Her voice caught. She realized that her eyes were fogging up with tears and hurriedly scrubbed them away.

Lucina gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand. We've barely talked about it since then... we've been so busy with putting the country back together that there's hardly been any time to think about anything else.”

“Apart from Cynthia and I, everyone else has left Ylisstol... they're out traveling, or rebuilding the Shepherds, or doing jobs of their own.” Severa sighed. “And, well... I guess that Cynthia's not really the best person to talk to about this sort of thing. Most of the time she just talks about how exciting it was to be able to see our parents at their best, but I don't want to upset her.”

“But you want someone to talk about it with. Is that it?”

“Well... yes,” said Severa reluctantly.

“Oh, Severa...” Lucina shifted closer to her. “You could talk to me about it.”

Severa mumbled something under her breath, and Lucina leaned forward slightly. “Sorry, what was that? I'm afraid I didn't hear you.”

Severa shook her head. “I just didn't want... to trouble you. I know that you already have a lot of things to worry about, and I didn't want to be a burden.”

“You could never be a burden to me,” said Lucina, putting a reassuring hand on Severa's shoulder. “Before I am the Exalt, or the princess, I'm your friend. No matter what happens, I promise that I'll always be here for you, okay?”

Severa glanced down at where Lucina's hand was resting. Her own skin seemed especially sensitive: it was as if she could feel every callus, every scar on the Exalt's palm. _Gods... it's so warm..._ “O-okay.” She looked up, meeting Lucina's eyes for the first time since the princess had gotten into the bath. They were alight with compassion, and concern, and Lucina smiled as their gazes finally met. That smile nearly broke Severa's restraint. For a wild moment, she wanted to tell Lucina everything, to say the words that her mother had never been able to say, to collapse forward into Lucina's arms, to kiss those smiling lips, and—

With iron willpower, she pressed those thoughts back. _No. It wouldn't be right. Not now, not when all of Ylisse looks to her for guidance. She needs a person who can lead alongside her, and I..._

_I'm not that person._

She drew back, slowly enough to convince both Lucina and herself that she wasn't panicking, and cast around frantically for a change of subject. “So, uh, this bathhouse. It's a unique design, isn't it?”

Lucina nodded blithely, seemingly unaware of the moment that had just passed. “I was told that the bathhouses in Chon'sin are built to this sort of design.”

“Told?”

“Yes. I spoke a great deal with Lady Tiki before she left for Mount Prism. Apparently, while she was traveling with father and the others, she saw many like it. She and the princess of Chon'sin, Say'ri, were apparently very close.”

Severa blinked. “I... see.”

“So when Lady Tiki told me about the Chon'sin style of bathing, I thought that a bathhouse in their style would be just the thing for the Royal Palace.” Lucina chuckled. “Cynthia has been very excited about the whole thing. Something about bathing together 'strengthening the invisible ties betwixt our valiant comrades!' Or something like that.” Her voice rose into a higher register as she spoke, imitating Cynthia's quite well.

Severa snorted. “That definitely sounds like something she'd say.”

“Well, what about you?” said Lucina. “Do you like it?”

“I... well...” Severa crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself. “It's a little bit... um... embarrassing, I guess. I'm not used to being naked around so many people.”

“I suppose that I can understand that,” said Lucina. “Still, it does bring back memories of back when we were kids.” There was a contented, faraway look in her eyes. “We'd come home, covered in dirt from playing out in the fields...”

“Playing at being Shepherds,” said Severa, grinning. “Running everywhere, waving sticks and ladles about and shouting about how we would vanquish evil! And Owain and his 'twitching sword hand!' I thought he'd grow out of it, but he never did!” Both of them stifled giggles.

“Our mothers would take one look at us and say 'You'd better wash up if you want any dinner!' So we'd squeeze into the tub, and get washed up and dried off, and eat dinner together... Our mothers would braid our hair while we ate and laugh together.”

Severa let out a happy sigh. “I guess that we had a lot of fun back then, didn't we?”

“We certainly did.” Lucina sighed.

The silence that descended this time was a comfortable one, a mutual reminiscence. At last, Severa yawned and stretched. “Well, if I stay here much longer, I'm going to end up looking like a wrinkled-up fruit.” As she began to pull herself up out of the pool, a sudden thought occurred to her, and she turned to look at the Exalt. “Say, Lucina?”

“Yes?”

“Would it make you happy if I braided your hair? Like we used to?”

Lucina's smile seemed to Severa like the sun breaking through the clouds. “It would make me very happy indeed.”

 _I'm sure that I'll be even happier about it than you are_ , Severa thought. Out loud, she said “All right. I'll go get a brush, then.” She clambered out of the pool, wrapping the towel around herself with a certain amount of self-consciousness, and headed backtowards the dressing room to retrieve a robe and a brush.

No sooner was Severa out the door than she sagged in relief. _Gods, that was_ much _too close. A little bit longer and I might have passed out._ She put a hand to her chest, feeling her pulse racing even through the fabric of the towel. The rush of blood made her almost giddy, as though she was walking on air. _Is this how my mother felt around Chrom? No wonder she wanted to stay by his side. Even knowing that they could never be together, the joy of being near him was still..._

She slapped a hand to either side of her face and shook herself. _Focus. If I don't come back with the brush soon, Lucina will wonder what's taking me so long._

Back in the dressing room, she slipped into one of the bathrobes—a standard-issue royal blue—and pulled her hairbrush out of her cubby. The brush was beautifully crafted, its wooden handle worn by long use: it had belonged to her mother, back when Cordelia was still alive, and Severa thought of her mother every time she used it. It was easier that way, to think back to her childhood and remember only the good things about Cordelia. _She tried to be perfect as a mother, like she was at everything else. I suppose she did a pretty good job._

Severa quickly brushed out her own hair and tied it back up into her usual style before heading back to Lucina. The Exalt was exactly where Severa had left her, stretched out in the pool. She leaned her head further back as Severa approached, watching the door while upside-down.

“That can _not_ be comfortable,” said Severa.

Lucina rolled her neck. “It isn't,” she confessed. “Do you need me to move?”

“No, you can stay there,” said Severa. “Just let me... get... your hair together...” She gingerly gathered up Lucina's sopping-wet hair, pulling it up out of the pool and onto a towel, and dried it off as well as she could. “Gods, Lucina, you have a lot more hair than I remember.”

“Well, it has been awhile since the last time we did this,” said Lucina.

“I suppose so.” Severa began brushing out Lucina's hair. “Gods, now I'm nervous. I hope I don't make a mess of this.”

“I'm sure you'll do fine.”

“Would you even notice if I didn't?” The words came out before she had thought them through, and Severa immediately regretted them. “I'm sorry, that was—”

“...pretty funny,” said Lucina, turning her head far enough for Severa to see her smiling. “Honestly, Severa, I was beginning to get a little worried about you. The way that you'd been talking, you didn't seem like yourself. I'm glad that you're still the same spirited Severa I know.”

“Hmph. Whatever,” said Severa, rolling her eyes. Despite her best efforts to keep a straight face, she smiled a little as well.

Lucina took in a deep breath and let it out in a contented sigh. “This is... really nice. We should do this more often: just spending time together, like the old days. It's nice to be able to relax once and a while, after everything that we've done the last few years.” Her voice turned serious. “When father died, we had to grow up quickly. There wasn't time for anything like this anymore.”

“You grew up more quickly than any of us,” said Severa with unusual gentleness, setting down the brush and separating Lucina's hair into several strands.

Lucina chuckled softly. “Well, I _am_ the oldest.”

“I—don't mean it like that, exactly.” Severa's hands wove in and out, and a neat braid began to form in them. _Huh. I guess I do remember how to do this._

“Well, then what exactly do you mean?”

Severa paused. “From the moment that you took up Falchion in Chrom's place, you've been the best of us. Whenever we came close to despairing, we would think of you: your strength, your resolve. You inspired all of us to keep on living.” _All of us, and especially me_. “You were our leader, our light of hope. ...well, I say 'were,' but you still are.” She blushed. “Uh, sorry if I got all sappy there. Anyway, that's what I meant.”

Lucina turned her head, and to Severa's astonishment, she thought that she saw tears in Lucina's eyes, clouding the mark of the Brand. “Did you... really mean that?”

“Of course! I wouldn't have said so if I didn't mean it,” said Severa. She finished tying together the final strands of the braid and clapped her hands together. “There. All finished.”

“Thanks, Severa,” said Lucina. She wiped her eyes and gave Severa another one of her beautiful smiles. “It was good talking to you.”

“Yeah, same to you,” said Severa. She straightened up, brushing off her robe. “Well, I need to go wash my gear and get something to eat. Later, Lucina.”

Lucina raised a hand from the water and waved languidly. “I'll see you, Severa.”

Severa left the bathhouse with a jaunty spring in her step and a merry tune on her lips. _I actually managed to carry on a conversation with her... At least I can still function properly._ There was a sudden gurgle, and Severa realized with embarrassment that it had been her stomach, growling loudly. She grimaced. _Oh, gods. I guess this is what I get for putting off dinner this long. I'd better go eat, or soon it'll be so loud that everyone in the castle will be able to hear it._

Resuming her contented humming, she headed up to her room to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is going to turn out MUCH longer than I initially expected, which means that I'll need to fill in a lot of the blank information. I've already 90% decided on Frederick as Severa's father, but I'm not sure who to say Chrom married in this timeline, or which Robin was there. Help me out in the comments, if you feel so inclined!
> 
> ...also, I changed the name of the fic, because I really like Severa's epilogue title.


	3. Repetition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As sub-commander of the newly re-formed pegasus knights, it is Severa's responsibility to train the new recruits, no matter how much difficulty some of them give her.

_Two weeks later..._

 

“Gods, Ellen, no, no, _no_!” Severa glared balefully at the recruit, who wilted noticeably. “If you hold your lance like that it'll get jarred out of your hands the first time you stab something.”

“S-sorry, Lady Severa,” the younger woman replied, ducking her head so that the fringes of her pale violet hair—cut short at her jawline—flopped forward over her eyes.

“Don't you 'Lady' me. I'm only two years older than you.”

“S-sorry, L—Severa,” Ellen said, nervously brushing back her hair. “C-could you show me the proper way to hold it again? I'm afraid I'm hopeless...”

“Ugh, _fine_ ,” said Severa. She held up her own lance, demonstrating. “You need to keep your hands on the grips. That's why they're called grips. You _grip_ them.”

“Like this?” Ellen held up the lance.

“Yeah, like that. See, you're _not_ hopeless.” Severa gestured toward the dummy. “Go on, give it a few stabs. Once you get used to holding your lance right, it'll be second nature.” Ellen nodded tentatively and began running through the drill again. After assuring herself that the young recruit was getting the hang of it, Severa gave her a nod and moved on.

 _We've all got a long way to go_ , Severa thought, looking across the practice field. Ellen was the most recent recruit: she had begun training with them less than a week ago, and the best that Severa could say about her technique was that it was no longer a _complete_ disaster.

Severa was proud of herself for that: Cynthia might be the one who commanded the pegasus knights, but it was Severa, in the capacity of sub-commander. who oversaw their training. _Cynthia's not focused enough to worry about the particulars of technique, and she's too nice to give correction to the recruits who really need it. But people are more used to being criticized by me, so they won't take it too personally._

The pegasus knight recruits were a mixed bunch. Cynthia and Severa had managed to recruit five other young women in addition to Ellen, and they hoped that more would join as time went on. Severa looked over each of them as she passed by, mentally evaluating. Tall, green-haired Zoe was good, but shirked her training more often than not. She was leaning on her lance and fanning herself as Severa walked by, but a quick look of disapproval from the sub-commander quickly sent her back to her lance drills. _I'll have to find a way to get her motivated._

Teresa, the oldest recruit at twenty-four, had been a foot soldier in the Ylissean army for most of the war, and the perpetual dark circles under her eyes showed that she was still plagued by nightmares. Her white hair, coiled into a tight bun, was dark with sweat, and her breathing was heavy. Teresa pushed herself harder than anyone else did. Though Teresa tried to hide it, Severa was sure that she lived in fear that the Fell Dragon and its servants would reappear at any moment. She was disciplined enough to stop herself from jumping at shadows, but it would be awhile before Severa was sure enough of her to send her to the front lines.

Severa waited for Teresa to finish her maneuver before tapping her on the shoulder. “Hey. Don't forget to take a break once in awhile. You'll collapse if you don't drink enough water.”

Teresa saluted crisply. “Yes, sub-commander. I will be mindful of my limits.” She turned back to the practice dummy, squaring off with as much seriousness as she would if it was a real enemy, and resumed her training. _Hm. Maybe if I paired her with Zoe when they're ready to start sparring, it might convince that bum to put some effort in for once. She'd look bad, otherwise._

The next pair of recruits were sisters. Paula and Renee were quiet, dark-haired, and dark-eyed. Their family had lived near the border of Plegia before the Grimleal had overrun the country, and the sisters had grown up as refugees, constantly retreating in the face of the Risen's advance. A couple of months of good food and soft beds had softened them considerably, but they still moved with the nervous steps of hunted prey. _They remind me of Yarne... always jumping at shadows, but still brave enough to try to take a stand._

Paula, her hair sticking up in unruly, irregular spikes, saw Severa approaching and raised a hand. “Excuse me... Miss Severa, could you check my footwork? I've been going through the motions, but something feels off.”

“Show me,” said Severa, crossing her arms. _“Miss” Severa? Well, better that than Lady..._

Paula moved through the drill with exaggerated slowness, taking a step forward as she moved her lance in one of the standard combat thrusts. Severa idly noted that Renee had stopped in her own exercises and was watching both of them obliquely.

“You're overextending,” said Severa as Paula returned to her original stance. “Here, do it again, and I'll show you.” As Paula stepped forward, Severa tapped her back foot with the blunt end of her own lance. “Make sure that you pivot far enough. If you're not squared up, one good counter-blow will be enough to knock you off-balance.”

The recruit adjusted her stance, adjusting it until it was to Severa's satisfaction. Out of the corner of her eye, Severa spotted Renee making identical adjustments. _Ah, so that's it._ Severa didn't think that Renee had ever spoken more than a dozen words to her at a time. _The poor girl's as timid as Noire, without the weird shouty thing._

 _I guess that means that Paula is to her what I am to Noire._ The thought made her smile. No matter how prickly she usually was, she couldn't bring herself to be tease Noire the way she teased everyone else. In a way, Noire was the best friend Severa had.

_I wish she was here... I could use her advice._

“Was that all right, Severa?” said Paula, leaning on her lance.

“Ah, yes,” said Severa, returning to reality. “Make sure that you keep on doing it the right way. With enough repetition, these movements will become second nature to you, so if you do it right while you practice, you'll do it right on the battlefield. Same thing if you screw up, so don't forget!”

“Yes, ma'am!” said Paula, nodding firmly. The motion was echoed by Renee.

That left only one recruit left who Severa hadn't examined. Lily was Feroxi, with bronzed skin and short blonde hair cut short at the sides. Her muscles looked more suited for swinging axes, but she had been _very_ enthusiastic about joining the pegasus knights. Severa had her suspicions that the main reason had been because it was an all-female unit. As far as Severa was concerned, Lily was as bad as Inigo when it came to talking to women, even if she wasn't as blatant about it.

At the moment, Lily seemed to be completely tuned out from her training. She had missed the dummy several times in quick succession, but she didn't seem to be looking in its direction. She didn't even notice that Severa had come up behind her until the sub-commander cleared her throat loudly. “Training hard, Lily?”

Lily jumped, nearly dropping her spear, and giggled nervously. “Ah ha ha... Severa. I didn't see you there.”

“Obviously not, since you seemed to be focused on something much more interesting.” Severa looked in the same general direction, spotting Teresa pouring a ladle of water over her head to cool off. _I thought it would be something like that._ “Am I right?”

“Yeah...” said Lily with a guilty expression.

“I suppose that I should remind you that we are a military unit, not an organization for helping you find a girlfriend.”

Lily mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “Could've fooled me.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Severa leaned forward menacingly.

“Uh, nothing, sub-commander!” Lily nearly knocked herself in the face with her lance as she saluted. “I'll... uh, just get back to training, shall I?”

“Yes, you probably should. And this time, remember which target you're supposed to keep your eyes on. Gods, is a little professionalism too much to ask?” ... _yes, it probably is._

As Severa walked away from Lily, she caught sight of two people pacing the far end of the training grounds, glancing over at the drilling pegasus knight recruits. One was obviously Cynthia, her pigtails bouncing with every step she took. The other was wearing a plain brown cloak, but as they moved, bits of royal blue raiment showed through. It wasn't much of a disguise—but then again, Severa would have been able to recognize Lucina no matter how much she disguised herself. She headed over towards them.

Cynthia waved. “How's the training going, Sevvy?”

“It's been difficult, but I think all of them finally know the right end of their weapon to hold,” Severa replied in a long-suffering tone.

“I'm glad you're teaching them,” said Cynthia. “You're probably much better at explaining that sort of thing than I am.”

“What, you mean which end of the weapon to hold? It's not that hard.” She turned to the other woman. “And what's with the cloak, Lucina?”

“I thought that it might make the recruits nervous if they knew that the Exalt was watching them,” said Lucina. Her voice turned rueful. “Is my disguise really that bad?”

“I mean... I guess it isn't terrible?” said Severa. “Anyone who knows you would be able to see through it in an instant, but it's the thought that counts.”

“I wanted to see how the training was progressing,” said Lucina. “Owain and Kjelle have been writing me regular letters—apparently, they're working on re-forming the Shepherds—but having another unit we can use to keep the peace will be a valuable asset.”

Severa glanced back over her shoulder. “So, what do you think?”

“They have a ways to go, but I'm confident that they'll continue to improve. They seem to be in good hands.”

Severa blinked. “Mh? What do you mean?”

Lucina smiled at her. “I mean that you seem to be a good teacher.”

Cynthia nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you're amazing! I'd never be able to explain that sort of thing the way you do!”

Severa idly twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “You really think so?”

“Of course!” Cynthia said, throwing an arm around Severa's shoulders. “It's amazing how quickly you learned the lance, and even if the others aren't learning as fast as you, they're definitely learning faster than they would if I were teaching them.”

“Well...” Severa allowed herself a small smile. “Well of course they're learning quickly. I have _very_ particular standards.”

Lucina opened her mouth as if to say something, but apparently thought better of it. Severa gave her a sidelong glance. “Were you going to—”

“Oh, no,” said Lucina, shaking her head. “I didn't—”

“It's about my mother, isn't it?”

Lucina bit her lip. “...yes.”

“Lucina...” Severa took a deep breath and let it out. “Look, I'm not as touchy about it as all that. Coming from you, I'll take a comparison to my mother as a compliment.”

“I actually wasn't going to compare you, this time,” said the Exalt. “In fact, your styles of instruction couldn't be more different.” She looked out over the training field. “I trained with Cordelia briefly before... before she died.”

“She was probably perfect,” muttered Severa.

“I'm not finished,” said Lucina calmly. “Yes, it's true, your mother was very skilled, She had a great deal of natural talent. But since she didn't have to work as hard for her success as others did, it was harder for her to understand why others had so much trouble doing what was simple for her. I often felt that she was... not angry, but maybe disappointed with how much progress I'd made.”

Severa laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” While she hadn't been old enough to begin official military training when her mother died, she had always felt overshadowed by her mother. Everything just came so _easily_ to her.

“My point is, you're not like that. Everything you do, you've achieved through your own hard work. Two weeks ago, you were in the bathhouse so late because you were spending extra time on the field—and all of your effort has paid off.”

“It really has!” said Cynthia. “I'm going to have my work cut out for me if I'm going to keep up with how good you're getting!”

“You know how difficult it is to get to the point you're at, so you understand the struggles that other people have to go through, and the discoveries that they can make about themselves on the way.” Lucina smiled. “Does that make sense?”

“I suppose so.” Severa twisted another strand of hair around her finger. “...thanks, Lucina.”

“I'm not sure what _you're_ thanking _me_ for,” said Lucina. “Rather, I should be thanking you. You're always so much harder on yourself than anyone else, and I wanted to make sure you knew how valued you are. So again, thank you.” The princess extended a hand. Severa fumbled for a moment in pulling off her sweat-stained right glove before taking it into her own. Perhaps it was the lingering heat of her glove, but Lucina's hand seemed especially warm.

“Uh, you're welcome, I guess.” She shook hands and withdrew, not wanting to linger too long. “I-I should get back to it. You know how recruits can be.”

“Of course. Keep up the good work, Severa.” Lucina nodded to her and turned to leave.

Severa watched her go. Her posture was immaculate, and she still moved with the same grace and poise that she had displayed on the battlefield. _A pity the cloak's in the way, or the view would be much better—_

“Sevvy?”

“Argh, _what_?” Being jarred out of her thoughts made Severa's outburst much more abrupt than she had intended. Cynthia giggled.

“You just looked really spacey. Weren't you going to go back to the training?”

“Uh, I was going to do that. I am doing that.” Severa turned on her heel and stomped back towards the practice field, pulling her glove back on as she did so.

 _And after everything I said to Lily about staying focused, too. Gods, I am_ such _a hypocrite._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "We are a military unit, not an organization for helping you find a girlfriend.” ...It's funny because Awakening is the best shipping simulator I've ever played. 10/10.
> 
> This is the part of the fic where I have to start putting in new characters to make up for the fact that three-quarters of the original cast is dead and three-quarters of the remaining cast has other things that they are canonically doing at this point. (Don't worry, I'll put the band back together... eventually.)


	4. Debtor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At dinner, Severa speaks with one of the recruits. Later that night, another conversation brings back memories of her childhood.

Severa poked at her plate with an uncertain expression. It was Cynthia's turn to cook tonight, and her ideas of what constituted proper food had always been interesting, to say the least. Today, it seemed, she had pulled out an old recipe of Lissa's: “Rainbow Pie.” Severa picked up a piece of it with her fork and eyed it suspiciously. _According to the recipe, it's meant to be served as a dinner. I suppose that I should give it a chance, no matter how it looks..._

Steeling herself, Severa slipped the fork into her mouth and swallowed. She instantly regretted her decision. _Oh, gods. I don't know what I was expecting, but this is even worse than I thought. It must have been a failed experiment... that's the only rational explanation._

She stole a look around the mess hall. Most of the others were having similar struggles—though, from the look of it, Zoe had already eaten three plates and was beginning on a fourth. _Even her taste buds are lazy..._

“Excuse me, sub-commander.” The voice came from behind her, but Severa instantly knew who it was. Nobody else addressed her so formally.

“Yes, Teresa?”

“I was wondering if you would permit me to sit with you.”

Severa shrugged. “Sure, I don't care.”

Teresa rounded the table and set down her plate and glass opposite Severa. She glanced at her superior officer's mostly untouched food and raised an eyebrow. “Are you not hungry?”

“Taste it for yourself,” said Severa, motioning towards Teresa's own plate. “You'll realize why.”

Teresa took a bite of her pie. Her expression quickly shifted through puzzlement, shock, dismay, and mild pain before settling back to neutral stoicism. “Ah,” she deadpanned.

“Yes.”

Teresa took a long drink from her glass and reached down to her side, bringing her pack up onto the table. “Fortunately, I bought some bread down in the market earlier. I had intended to have it go with dinner, but substitution works just as well.” She pulled out two loaves, offering one to Severa. “Would you like some?”

“Gods, you're a lifesaver,” said Severa, accepting the bread with relief.

“A soldier is always prepared,” said Teresa. Her tone remained flat, but Severa caught a hint of a smile that was quickly pinned back down.

Severa took a bite of the bread, glad to have something that let her get the taste of the Rainbow Pie out of her mouth. After a moment, she looked over at Teresa. “So what was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“I had a question, actually.”

Severa waited for Teresa to go on, but the other woman said nothing. _I suppose that she's waiting for permission._ “Okay... go ahead and ask it, then.”

“Was it the Exalt you were talking to while we were training?”

Severa saw no reason to lie. “Yeah. She wanted to keep an eye on how you all were doing.”

“Then why the secrecy?”

“She thought that if people knew she was watching, they might get nervous.”

“A fair point.” Teresa sighed and stared into her cup.

“That didn't sound like the good kind of sigh.”

“No, it was not.”

Once again, Severa waited for Teresa to continue, and once again, Teresa said nothing. _Does she want to talk or not?_ Severa thought waspishly. She kept her voice even, however. “If you want to talk about it, you don't need to wait for my permission.”

“...thank you, sub-commander, but I am fine.” The soldier took a large bite of her bread, washing it down with a swig of water.

“Teresa, if you need someone to talk to—” Severa began, but she was interrupted by a loud shout from the direction of the kitchen. Cynthia appeared at the door, beaming.

“Dessert's ready!”

Severa and Teresa took one whiff of the scent wafting from the kitchen and simultaneously pushed back their benches. _No, thank you._

 ---

Severa sat at her desk, illuminated by candlelight, and stared at the sheet of paper in front of her. _I have no idea what to say..._ She was trying to write a letter to Noire, telling her how things were progressing in the capital and asking her how she was, but the words wouldn't come.

“ _Dear Noire, I hope you've been doing well.” ...no, because if she hasn't been doing well, she'll feel bad for worrying me... I just know it. “Dear Noire, we've all been missing you here.” ...but that might just make her feel guilty for not being here._ She tossed down her quill and sighed. _Ugh. This would be so much easier if I could just talk to her in person..._

Severa decided that it would be for the best if she took a break from letter-writing. She stood, grimacing at how stiff her muscles were. _Maybe I shouldn't have spent so much time sitting still. A good walk should help work this off._

Pulling on her boots, she set off down the hallway and out into the courtyard. As she made her way down the colonnade overlooking the garden, Severa paused. She thought that she heard a sound coming from further down the corridor. _Is that... crying?_

Severa moved in the direction of the sound, calling out softly. “Uh, hello?”

There was movement from near the railing. Severa caught a glimpse of Teresa's face, streaked with tears, before the other woman hurriedly dashed them away. “S-sub-commander! I did not think you would be awake—”

“Are you all right?” She mentally cursed. “...no, never mind, don't bother answering that. You wouldn't be up in the middle of the night crying if you were all right.” She leaned against the railing, keeping her distance to respect Teresa's personal space. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I...” Teresa cleared her throat. “The truth is that I have not been well.” There was a haunted look in her eyes. “I had thought that Grima's fall would have made matters better, but still, the memories return.” She gripped the railing with white-knuckled hands.

Severa weighed her words carefully. “Memories of what?”

Teresa met Severa's eyes. “Do you recall the first time that the Risen broke through to Ylisstol, six years ago?”

 _A sky black with smoke, the sunset tinged blood-red. The screams of the dying, mixed with the eerie howls of the Risen. The floor of the throne room itself, slick with blood. Her sword, the one her father had helped her make, breaking in her hand. She had been fourteen years old._ “...I remember,” Severa said.

Teresa shook her head. “I was barely trained; just a girl who had been given a lance and told to defend the city. But we were overrun... my comrades died around me, one by one, defending me. One of the Risen disarmed me and grabbed my arm. I was sure that I was going to be eaten alive, but I could do nothing to defend myself—only wait for my end to come.” She looked up. “In that moment, the Exalt saved me. She told me that we could not let those 'things' win, and that I must fight on. So I did. We won the battle, and drove them back. But ever since then...”

 _I think that I understand._ “Has training been difficult for you?”

“Somewhat. But I think that standing by and doing nothing would be even worse. Besides, I am indebted to the Exalt for saving my life. I am not the sort to leave my debts unpaid.”

“Thank you for telling me this,” said Severa. _There's something about this that seems... familiar, somehow. But what is it?_

“No, thank _you_ for asking me.” Teresa rubbed at her eyes. “Despite the blow to my pride, I am glad you saw me. Perhaps having talked about it will make it easier.”

She nodded. “Any time.” _What kind of person would I be, otherwise?_

Teresa's expression was hard to read, but she sounded relieved. “Thank you.”

Severa nodded. “Uh, right. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

“I will.” Teresa stood and saluted. “Goodnight, sub-commander.”' She headed back down the corridor in the direction of the sleeping quarters.

Severa leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. _At least I was able to do some good. I was terrified that I would say the wrong thing. Lucina would have been able to speak to her much better._

 _Although... perhaps she wouldn't have been able to speak as freely with the Exalt._ The stone of the railing was cool against her arms as she leaned her cheek on one hand. _Perhaps I was the right person for the job after all. For some reason, I felt like I'd seen this before... but why?_

Realization struck Severa like a hammer-blow. _Oh gods. Mother._

The survivor's guilt, the stubborn perseverance—it was all the same. Cordelia had been tormented by the sacrifices her comrades in the border guard had made for her, and even more so by the Shepherds' failure to protect Chrom at the Dragon's Table. She had taken responsibility for things beyond her control, and in the end that had been too much for her.

After her husband had died, Cordelia had sunk down further and further under that burden. She had hidden her pain from everyone, even her own daughter, projecting the image of herself as Severa remembered her: strong, unwavering, and perfect. It had taken a long time for Severa to realize that the front she put up was as insubstantial as mist: a lie told to frightened children, to comfort them and melt away their fears.

And by the time Severa saw the lie, it was too late.

 _I failed you, mother. Even if I was young, that's no excuse: I was selfish, and blind to your pain. If I had been more understanding, if I had helped you, maybe you wouldn't have..._ Tears dripped from her eyes onto her hands, warm against her skin. She almost laughed. _Here I am, in exactly the same position Teresa just was. Maybe Lucina will happen along and ask me why_ I'm _crying. Perhaps she'll dry my tears herself, and—_

She _did_ laugh at that thought: a watery laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. _Gods, I should get some sleep. My imagination is running wild._ With the sleeve of her shirt, she wiped the tears away from her eyes, shaking her head.

 _I can't change the past. Nobody can. But maybe, by helping Teresa, I can begin to make up for not helping you. I won't make the same mistake I made back then._ She straightened, looking up at the stars. _Mother... are you watching me? If you are..._

_I hope that you're proud of me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... ambivalent about the way this chapter turned out? On the one hand, it ultimately led to some good introspection for Severa, but on the other hand, it was a lot of emphasis to put on an OC when she's supposed to be a fairly minor character... As always, I appreciate your thoughts and commentary!
> 
> (Supplemental: In case it didn't end up being clear, Teresa's supposed to be the soldier that Lucina rescues during the "Dire Future" FMV. Because I found it interesting that there was exactly one generic female soldier present.)


	5. Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the soldier's story fresh in her mind, Severa remembers a night fourteen years ago, when her mother and father were still alive.

_She had been only six years old when the Shepherds returned from Plegia, carrying the sword of their fallen prince. The crowd had gone utterly silent as Severa's father Frederick, his face gaunt from grief, knelt before the eight-year-old Lucina and wordlessly offered up the Falchion._

The image was graven into her memory: in fact, it was one of the earliest memories she could still recall. She could picture every detail of the scene: her father's shoulders shaking as he silently wept. Her mother, head bowed, pale as death, unable to offer any comfort to her daughter. Lissa, sobbing into West-Khan Lon'qu's shoulder, their small son clutching at the hem of her robes in confusion and fear.

And Lucina, standing rigidly straight, fighting back tears despite her trembling, accepting the weight of the sword into her small hands. Even then, she had been strong. Despite the crowds around her, Severa had never seen anyone look as utterly alone as Lucina did in that moment.

Her father was dead, and her mother missing. Ugly rumors soon began to swirl about—that it had been Lucina's mother who had killed their prince, and that murdering Chrom had been her goal from the beginning. That her mother had been a worshiper of Grima, a heretic who scorned the true faith. That her mother was the offspring of King Validar of Plegia, and had married Chrom in order to take his throne. That Lucina bore the same traitorous blood, and _blood will out_...

\---

She had awoken one night to noise from her parents' room. Bleary-eyed, she rolled out of bed, tiptoeing on bare feet towards the connecting door. Though the door was shut, she could see candlelight filtering in from the cracks in the door, and hear her parents' indistinct voices. Curious, she knelt down, pressing one ear up against the worn wood.

“How is Lady Lissa?” That was her father's voice, deep and steady. The sound of it had always reassured her, but there was an undertone of concern to the question.

“Not well.” Severa's mother sounded as if she was stretched to the breaking point. Her voice was strained, ragged. “She's still in shock.”

“We all are. I had never imagined...” Frederick's boot-heels clacked on the ground; a sure sign that he was restlessly pacing the room like a caged beast. “I am to blame. Had I been more vigilant—”

“You mustn't speak that way!” said Cordelia, seeming almost angry. “None of us could have predicted what happened. For his own wife to turn on him...”

“I could have protected him.”

“But if you had—”

“I _should_ have protected him!” Frederick practically shouted the last words, and Severa put her hands over her mouth to suppress a surprised squeak. Her father had always been calm, controlled, invincible. This kind of vulnerability was utterly unfamiliar.

“Dear, don't shout,” pleaded Cordelia. “You'll wake up Sevvy.”

She heard her father let out a breath. “...I am sorry.” Then nothing.

The silence stretched on. Frederick had stopped pacing, and in the emptiness, Severa hardly dared breathe, afraid that they would hear her.

“I am being appallingly selfish, aren't I?” her father said at last, with bitter humor. “Compared to Her Highness's, my own grief is as a candle before a blaze. I cannot allow myself to—”

“For the gods' sakes,” snapped Cordelia. “You are _allowed_ to grieve!”

“Perhaps, but I have no time in which to do so,” said Frederick. “Lissa is Exalt now, and she will require my services. We must determine where the Grimleal will strike next, so that we may properly distribute our forces.” The clacking of his boots resumed. “Lissa is no strategist, so I must do all that I can to ease her burden.”

Cordelia's voice was soft. “We must be strong, for Chrom's sake as well as hers.”

Frederick continued on. “If Libra's prediction is correct—and I pray that it is—then they will avoid Ylisse as long as they can. Naga's power is strongest here, where the first Exalt performed the Awakening, and it will deter them from advancing until they are sure of their strength.”

“Then their most likely target will be Ferox, or perhaps Valm.”

“Valm has the Narrow Sea to protect her from the Risen, at least for a time. Virion and Say'ri are already returning home to warn them of the danger, and rally them against the Grimleal. As for Ferox... Khan Flavia's troops are some of the most hardened we have left,” Frederick mused. “They won't yield their land easily, to be sure. And Khan Lon'qu will do anything he deems necessary to protect his wife's homeland. If their armies can stall the enemy long enough...” His voice trailed off.

Cordelia waited a moment before asking, “What are you thinking?”

“Lady Lucina has the Brand. She's one of Falchion's chosen. When she comes of age, she may well be able to perform the Awakening.”

“But the Fire Emblem and the Gemstones are in the hands of the Grimleal. Without them, we cannot invoke the rite.”

“Enough of the Shepherds still survive. If necessary, we'll spend our own lives to ensure that the Awakening takes place.” Her father's tone was businesslike, flat, as if he spoke of mundane matters—not the sacrifice of lives.

“My dear...”

“You disagree?” said Frederick flatly.

“...no. But I have a condition. When you go, bring me with you.”

There was a long pause. “I cannot do as you ask.”

“I'm not asking you, I'm _telling_ you. I'm not about to let you throw your life away!”

“No! Absolutely not!” Frederick's voice rose again, and this time, rather than admonishing him to be quiet, Cordelia's rose with him.

“Why? Because your honor demands that you avenge your lord personally?” Severa's mother was indignant, and made no effort to hide it.

“No, it's not—”

“Or is it that you feel guilty that you didn't die yourself? Are you going to throw your life away that easily, just because your beloved Lord Chrom is dead?”

“I wouldn't—”

“Then _what is it_?” There was an almost scornful note in Cordelia's voice now. “Are you trying to protect me? I can fight for myself! You know that I—”

“THINK OF OUR DAUGHTER!” Frederick's outburst stunned Cordelia into momentary silence, and he didn't give her a chance to speak further. “Do you want Severa to grow up alone, just because you insisted on dying with me?”

There was a long moment of silence.

“...I want Severa to _live_ to grow up,” said Cordelia at last. “I would give... anything to make that happen. Anything...” She sounded on the verge of tears.

Frederick let out a choking sob. “Oh, my dear... I'm sorry. So... sorry...” Hearing even her father break down, Severa could hide no longer. She flung the door open, running into the room with tears of her own flooding her eyes.

“Daddy... mommy...!”

Her father was kneeling on the ground, his face stained with tears. Her mother knelt in front of him, holding him close as he cried into her chest. Both of them looked up, stricken, as she burst into the room, wailing.

“Severa... sweetheart... I'm sorry. Did daddy wake you up?” said Frederick. The catch in his voice, even as he tried to keep it steady, set Severa to bawling even harder.

“Daddy... please... don't go...”

Frederick hugged her and pulled her close. “Don't worry, darling,” he said, voice ragged. “I promise... I'll stay with you as long as I can. I promise...”

“I don't care if I d-don't grow up, as long as you're s-still with me,” said Severa.

She felt him stiffen guiltily. “Darling...”

Her mother wrapped her arms around both of them, enfolding Severa and Frederick in an embrace. “It will be all right, Sevvy. Mommy and daddy love you very much,” she whispered, kissing the top of Severa's head.

The little girl sniffled. “I love you too.”

Wrapped in her parents' arms on the floor of the room, with their warmth surrounding her like a blanket, Severa cried until she could cry no more. The trio stayed like that for a long time before Cordelia finally rose, reluctantly.

“Well, I think we should all get some sleep before the sun rises, don't you think?” She gave her daughter a bright smile, which Severa tried to return. Cordelia held out a hand to help her to her feet. “Come on, let's get you tucked in again.”

Frederick smiled wanly. “Goodnight, Severa.” He hugged her once more, then planted a kiss on the center of her forehead. “Sleep well, now.”

“'Night, daddy,” said Severa. Hand in hand with her mother, she walked back through the door and into her room. As Cordelia tucked the covers back around her, she spoke up. “Is daddy going to be okay?”

“Daddy is... he's feeling really bad.”

“If we give him kisses will it make him feel better?”

“Oh, darling,” said Cordelia, wiping at her eyes. “I'm afraid that a few kisses won't be enough to make daddy feel better. But we're going to keep being here for him, just like he'll keep being here for us. So promise to be strong for him, okay?”

Severa nodded. “I promise.” As Cordelia bent down to kiss her goodnight, a thought occurred to her, and her little face contorted in concentration. “Mommy... what about Lucy? Her mommy and daddy aren't here to kiss her goodnight...”

“Lucy's going to need people to be strong for her, too,” said Cordelia. “Sevvy... Can you make me another promise?”

“What promise?”

“That no matter what happens, you stay by Lucy's side. She's needs people just like your mommy and daddy to watch over her and help her, and when you grow up, you'll be able to do that. But right now, what she really needs, more than anything else, is a friend. And that's something that you can do right now, even better than your daddy or me.”

“You really think I could be a better friend than you, mommy?” said Severa, disbelievingly.

“I know you can,” said Cordelia. She kissed Severa on the cheek. “Now sleep, darling. Goodnight.”

Severa let out a long yawn. “Goodnight, mommy...”

Severa heard Cordelia close the door gently behind her. She stared at the ceiling, thinking. _Mommy says Lucy needs a friend. She seemed really lonely, and I don't think that anyone should have to be that sad. Maybe a hug will help her feel better..._

_I'll find her and give her a great big hug. And I'll tell her that “it will be all right.”_

_In the morning..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this takes place outside the regular time frame of the fic, I had intended to list this as Chapter 4x, the first gaiden chapter. I thought this would be an elegant way to handle flashbacks without disrupting the nominal structure of the story. Unfortunately, that's not an option, so here it is as Chapter 5. Not a big deal, more of a personal nitpick.
> 
> As always, commentary and feedback is appreciated!


	6. Perseverance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severa has never been an early riser, but after a restless night, she decides that heading to the practice field is the best way to work off steam.

_Ugh. What time is it?_

Severa lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She’d stayed up to finish her letter to Noire, but despite her late night, she hadn’t gotten much sleep. Her bedsheets were a tangled mess: she had never been the most restful sleeper, and by the look of things she had tossed and turned far more than she usually did. Glancing towards her window, open to let in the late summer breeze, Severa couldn’t see any hint of light outside. _It’s not even dawn yet. Why am I awake?_

She briefly considered rolling over and going back to sleep, but quickly ruled that out. _By the time I manage to get to sleep, it’ll be time to wake up anyway. And if I’m awake, I might as well do something productive._ She smiled wryly. _More training it is. I’m getting as bad as Kjelle. I bet she would be pretty smug if she could see me now._

She extricated herself from the sheets and quickly changed into her working clothes. Grabbing a cloak to ward off the morning chill, she headed out towards the practice field.

The palace was completely silent—almost eerily so. A light mist hung over the garden, making the few torches burning along the colonnade look ghostly. A few months ago, Severa would have been unnerved by the emptiness and quiet: for the usual patrols to be absent would have meant that something was very wrong. Now, however, it was almost soothing: a sleepy contentment hung over Ylisstol, letting the city rest from war and death at long last.

She reached the equipment shed at the edge of the practice field and looked over the practice weapons. After a moment’s hesitation, she selected a sword from the weapon rack, hefting it in one hand and giving it a few experimental swings. _It’s been awhile since I fought with a blade. I hope that my technique isn’t_ too _rusty._

As she headed out onto the practice field, she paused, listening hard. A rhythmic clacking came to her ears: the sound of a practice weapon repeatedly striking a target. _I guess that I wasn’t the only person here who couldn’t sleep._

She kept quiet as she moved towards the source of the noise. When the target finally came into sight, Severa stopped, watching in amazement.

Lucina, dressed plainly in a sleeveless undershirt and cloth breeches, was squaring off against one of the practice dummies. Her hair was tied back in a tail to secure it out of her face, and Severa took a moment to admire the sight: the back of the princess’s neck displayed by her hairstyle, the scars on her bare arms, the light sheen of sweat on her skin.

Lucina stepped forward for another sequence, her sword moving in a blur, tapping out a sharp rhythm against the target. Even though she was already familiar with the Exalt’s fighting style, Severa couldn’t help but be awed. There wasn’t a single movement wasted. Lucina’s blade moved from low to high at blinding speed, striking all of the weak points in sequence. She moved with practical efficiency, from hamstring to throat. Whether her opponent was human or Risen, Severa wouldn’t have put any odds on their survival. _Lucina is, and always has been, a true master of the blade._

The sequence ended with a lunge, bringing the point of her sword up against the dummy’s “throat.” Lucina held the pose for a few seconds before stepping back and flourishing her sword to a sheathed position. Severa chose that moment to speak up.

“Morning, Lucina.”

The Exalt turned to her with a smile, wiping sweat from her brow. “Severa! I hadn’t expected to see you up so early.”

“Neither had I,” Severa said wryly. “It’s a pain in the neck, but I couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah, but aren’t you glad to be awake?” said Lucina, spreading her arms wide to encompass the training ground. “The calm before daybreak… the refreshing mist… this time of the morning is truly beautiful.”

“The only part of the morning I’d call _beautiful_ is the peace and quiet,” Severa grumbled. _That’s the truth, isn’t it? Lucina doesn’t really count as part of the morning…_

“Peace and quiet, hm?” Lucina twirled her sword around idly. “I take it that you’re still having trouble managing the new recruits, then?”

“They’re coming along,” said Severa. “I’m planning on starting mounted drills soon. Maybe that will get them to stop complaining. Repeating drills and forms might not be particularly interesting, but it’s what will keep them alive on the battlefield.”

“You sound like Kjelle.”

“Well, Kjelle would probably have a better time training this lot than me.” Severa paused. “How is she doing, by the way? Have you heard from her?”

“The occasional letter,” said Lucina. “It helps to clarify the ones that Owain is sending me… his letter-writing is just as colorful as his everyday speech. They’ve made quite a bit of progress on re-forming the Shepherds: Laurent is the new chief tactician, and Kjelle and Owain are sharing the leadership. It’s apparently only a matter of months before they’re ready to start conducting missions on their own.”

“I imagine that all three of them are run ragged,” said Severa. “I don’t envy them.”

“Well, they did choose to do this,” said Lucina. “Much like you chose to be the primary trainer of the pegasus knights. They wouldn’t have taken the job if they disliked it.” A sly, knowing smile came to her lips. “Does the same apply to you, I wonder?”

Severa turned red. “I-I… ugh. _Fine_. I admit it, I like training with the recruits, even if they do flop around like landed fish.” She glared at Lucina. “But don’t you dare tell them that! I need to keep my credibility as a trainer, okay?”

Lucina shrugged, still looking at Severa with annoying smugness. _I can think of a few ways to wipe that damn smirk of hers off her face…_ She hurriedly quashed that line of thought before she got too lost in daydreams and spoke up again. “Lucina, you’d better not…”

“Hmm… I don’t know…” The Exalt winked. “I’ll consider letting you off the hook, but only if you’ll spar with me.”

“…spar with you?” said Severa.

“That’s right. I haven’t had a decent match in months. Everyone seems terrified that they’re going to hurt the Exalt, and that’s no fun when I just want to fight all out. But with your reputation on the line… I think I can trust you not to hold back, right?”

Severa pulled off her cloak and tossed it aside, a wolf-like grin coming to her face. “All right, Lucina, you asked for this.” She brought up her sword. “On guard!”

Both women moved forward, closing the distance. Then, almost in unison, they swung their swords. The attacks came hard and fast, and the sound of their swords clacking sounded almost like falling rain. Severa was quickly put on the defensive, taking a few steps back before planting her feet and catching Lucina’s sword in a lock. The Exalt countered by grabbing Severa’s wrist in an iron grip, trying to twist the sword out of her hand, but Severa aimed a quick kick at her shins, forcing Lucina back a few paces.

She didn’t give Lucina time to regain her balance, but immediately stepped forward with a flurry of slashes. Lucina blocked each of them solidly, sending a shock through Severa’s arms, and swept her blade in a vertical slash. Severa sidestepped the attack and aimed another blow across Lucina’s midsection. This time the princess jumped back rather than blocking, putting some distance between them. The pair faced each other, taking a few moments to catch their breath, before returning to it hammer-and-tongs.

Severa blocked a pair of blows aimed at her legs and swung a two-handed, overhand blow at Lucina. The princess held her sword over her head, grabbing the blade with her free hand to give her more leverage, and pushed Severa off. They leapt apart once more; then the princess lunged forward with the same movement she had used at the end of her training sequence. _I recognize this… and if I recognize it, I can block it!_

She flicked her wrist, sliding Lucina’s thrust just wide of herself, and brought her sword into a high bind, sweeping Lucina’s blade off over her head and immediately countering with a swift strike to the midsection. She had expected the princess to block it, but Lucina was taken by surprise, and moved too slowly. At the last moment, Severa realized that she was about to strike Lucina at full force. She tried to pull the blow, but she was unable to stop her sword entirely, and the lead-weighted wood thudded into Lucina’s side just below the ribcage. The Exalt let out a surprised breath and collapsed, winded.

 _Oh no…_ Severa dropped her sword and knelt down, speaking quickly and frantically. “Oh gods, Lucina! I’m so sorry! Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

The Exalt’s eyes fluttered, and she coughed. “I’m… fine.” Lucina let out a wheezing laugh. “Whew… you sure didn’t hold back, did you?”

“You’re… laughing?” Severa blinked.

“Well, yes.” Lucina coughed, rubbing at her stomach. “Owww…”

“Idiot! I could have really hurt you!” said Severa, irritation overpowering her relief.

“If you had, it would have been my fault,” said Lucina. She sat up and took a deep breath. “I should have been more careful.”

“ _You_ should have been more careful? _Gods!_ ” Severa snapped. “I could have broken your ribs, like a complete moron!”

“Well, you didn’t,” said Lucina patiently. She held out a hand to Severa. “Here, help me up.”

Severa took her hand and pulled with much more force than was necessary. Lucina was practically dragged to her feet, but she didn’t manage to find her footing. She stumbled forward against Severa, who barely managed to stay upright. “Hey, watch it!”

“It’s not my fault,” said Lucina, raising her eyebrows. “You’re the one who pulled me up.”

“Whatever.” Severa glanced to the side guiltily. _That was close… If I’d lost my balance too, we_ both _would have ended up on the ground._ She paused for a moment, picturing the result of that, and groaned inwardly. _Ugh, why_ didn’t _I?_

“That was a solid hit… I think I’m going to have a bruise.” Lucina’s wry voice made Severa look up, and she immediately turned red. Lucina had pulled up the hem of her shirt and was peering at her side. Her taut stomach muscles were fully on display, and Severa couldn’t stop her mouth from falling open slightly. _Oooooooh gods. I hope I’m not drooling._

“Um,” she said, more to stop herself from gaping than from anything else.

Lucina grinned at her. “What, are you afraid that I’m going to tell the recruits? Don’t worry, you won fair and square. It’ll be our little secret.”

“Our…” began Severa, blushing. “Um. Okay.”

Lucina looked up at the sky. The mist was beginning to dissipate, and the night was beginning to give way to gray morning. Her face lit up with excitement. “The sun’s about to rise! Come on, let’s go watch it!” Without waiting for Severa to respond, she ran in the direction of the battlements. Severa hesitated for a moment before picking up her cloak and following her.

They reached the top of the east wall, and Lucina leaned out eagerly through one of the crenelations, towards the eastern horizon. “You sure do like to watch the sunrise, don’t you?” said Severa, leaning against the merlon next to her.

“I watch it every morning,” said Lucina. “It’s my reward to myself after training.” The breeze picked up, and Lucina rubbed her bare arms, shivering. Severa, rolling her eyes, pushed the cloak at her.

“Here. Gods, do you have a grudge against sleeves or something?”

Lucina giggled. “Maybe.” She wrapped the cloak around her shoulders. “Thank you, Severa. I’m lucky I have you to look out for me.”

Severa turned away to hide her blush. “Well, _someone_ has to.”

Slowly, majestically, the sun came over the horizon, golden light bathing the countryside of Ylisse. Lucina spoke up softly. “I never thought I’d live to see the day when I could simply enjoy watching the dawn.” The Exalt let out a long sigh of contentment, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Severa’s attention, however, was on her princess. She smiled. “It really is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucina has the same vendetta against sleeves as her father. ...and we'll just pretend that Severa and Lucina are using the wooden equivalent of traditional lordly rapiers, because most of my combat knowledge is about that rather than broadsword fighting.
> 
> The next chapter will probably take a while longer to complete, so thank you for bearing with me.
> 
> Have feedback? Questions? Just want to start a friendly chat? I'll be around.


	7. Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severa and Cynthia take the knights out for further training. Although Phila’s knights are riding again, whether or not they are riding competently is up for debate.

“Aren’t you excited, Sevvy?” said Cynthia, almost squealing in delight.

“…sure, if you say so,” said Severa, voice indifferent. _“Nervous” might be a better description. Or perhaps “terrified.”_ Today would be the first time that their unit ran a mounted patrol, and Severa had lost quite a bit of sleep worrying about the weather. Summer storms could be brutal, and flying a patrol in the middle of one of them would be idiotic. _Even if you can keep aloft, your mount’s likely to injure herself navigating the winds. And your weapons and armor? You might as well be a lightning rod._

Despite Severa’s fears, however, the day had dawned with fair, if slightly overcast, weather. Immediately after breakfast, the recruits had headed for the stables to ready their mounts—though Zoe, who had arrived to the meal late and had fallen asleep in the middle of her second helping, had to be shaken awake first.

“Well, Starlight and I have missed being in the thick of things,” said Cynthia, scratching her mount behind the ears. Starlight, a magnificent beast with a jet-black coat and feathers, snorted in pleasure and blew into Cynthia’s hair, eliciting a delighted giggle from the commander.

“We’re not _in the thick of things_ , we’re running a patrol,” said Severa. She had just finished brushing out the mane of Blizzard, her own mount, and reached up to pull her saddle down from the rack.

“Well, it’s the closest to the thick of things that we’ve been in a long time,” Cynthia retorted. “Besides, I’ve been itching to flex my muscles.”

“To show off to your underlings, you mean?”

“Awww, you don’t need to make it sound like that!”

“But you do want to show off, don’t you?”

“…maybe a little…”

Severa shrugged, smirking. “Well, I’ll be sure to bring along a healing staff, if that’s the case.”

“Come on, have a little faith!” said Cynthia, pouting.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not for you. It’s in case the recruits are so impressed with you that they fall out of their saddles.” She cinched the last strap tightly around Blizzard’s midsection and winked. “That’s a real danger, isn’t it?”

Cynthia opened the door of the stall, taking Starlight’s lead rein. “We’ll see how much you tease me after you’ve seen my _totally awesome_ techniques!”

“I look forward to it,” said Severa, grinning.

They formed up in the courtyard: eight riders, lances braced against their stirrups as their pegasi stomped at the ground. Severa checked her shoulder strap to make sure that her staff was properly stowed, but ready to be drawn out at a moment’s notice: battlefield healing was a tricky prospect, and a few seconds often made all the difference. As soon as she was assured it was properly stowed, she turned to Cynthia. “Well, anything you want to say before we take off?”

Cynthia twisted in the saddle to look back at the other recruits and raised her voice. “All right, people, listen up! The very first official mission of the new Ylissean pegasus knights is about to begin! I want you all to show me what you’ve learned out there, and don’t hold back! Let’s all do our best together, okay?” She punched the air with her free hand. A rather ragged chorus of assent greeted her.

Severa glared back at the recruits. “ _Unacceptable_! When the commander gives a speech, you ought to respond with a nice, crisp ‘Yes, commander!’ Try it again! Are you ready?”

This time, the knights shouted in unison. “Yes, commander!”

“Hmph! Barely adequate, but I’m sure it will improve, given time.” She looked over at Cynthia. “On your order, commander.”

Cynthia, looking somewhat befuddled, shook herself. “Uh… right. Everyone, take off in pairs on my mark!” She touched her heels to Starlight’s side, and the pegasus leapt forward, building up to a gallop before launching herself into the air with a mighty wingbeat. Severa and Blizzard took off a breath later, with the remainder of the recruits just behind.

Cynthia leaned over towards Severa, trying to make herself heard over the wind. “Wow, you sure sounded scary back there.”

Severa allowed herself some self-satisfied preening. “But of course. I learned from the best. I used to watch my dad whip soldiers into shape all the time.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, then,” said Cynthia. She nodded. “All right, we’ll move a bit further north before we start running maneuvers.”

The air was crisp: not too warm, and not too cold. As they flew, the clouds began to break up, until they were flying through a clear, blue sky. Severa looked down to see the countryside unfolding beneath her like a quilt: rolling fields and pastures bracketed by hedges and fences, with the odd grazing herd of cows or flock of sheep. Ahead of them, a river split the landscape, looking like a wide, blue ribbon from their vantage point as it meandered its way down from the northeast. Cynthia raised her left hand as they approached the river, and Severa read the signs: “ _form up”_ and _“wait for orders.”_ She raised her own hand in acknowledgment and relayed it down the line.

Though the recruits were somewhat slow to respond, they eventually managed to get into a satisfactory formation. Once that was done, Cynthia brought Starlight into as steady a position as she could manage and began a series of signals.

At _“Break by pairs,”_ the riders split into three groups, moving into a long, slow glide. Cynthia’s next signal, _“attack run_ ,” was enthusiastically complied with. Severa watched closely from near Cynthia’s position, evaluating. _Ellen’s a good rider, for all her shoddy lance-work. I’ll have to remember to compliment that._

Things got a little complicated when Cynthia signaled “ _form up_ ” again: Lily’s glide took her too far over, and she nearly collided with Renee. Fortunately, neither of them was injured, but it was a close call. Even from far away, Severa could hear Paula’s voice shouting a variety of colorful insults in the Feroxi knight’s direction.

As Cynthia raised her hand to relay another series of signals, something caught Severa’s eye: a series of bright lights, steadily rising into the sky from near the river. _There’s a village down there, I think…_ She squinted, trying to make out the pattern. During the war, Laurent’s mother had devised and distributed a series of magical signals, to help ensure the safety of the population. The magic was rudimentary enough for almost universal use, and everyone involved in the military had worked hard to learn the signals.

She called over to Cynthia. “Somebody sent up a light. I’m going to see if I can read it.” She nudged Blizzard in the direction of the village, squinting. _If it was a bit darker out, it would be easier to read._

 _Let’s see. Two red lights, then three in violet… Oh gods._ She wheeled Blizzard about, climbing higher, and flew back towards Cynthia. “Risen sighting!” she shouted as she approached.

“Risen?!” Cynthia’s eyes widened. “There’s a village down there!”

“They’re calling the villagers back out of the fields and barring the gates, but that’ll leave the crops exposed.” Severa shook her head. “I hate to ask our recruits to jump straight into combat, but it’ll take awhile for one of the other units to make their way out here, and I don’t want to wait any longer than is absolutely necessary.”

“Agreed,” said Cynthia. She raised her voice. “Listen up, knights! There’s a pack of Risen somewhere down there, and we’re going to find them and kick their butts! Understand?”

Severa led the responding chorus. “Yes, commander!”

The eight pegasus knights headed into a descending spiral until they were only a few dozen feet above the ground, giving them a better view. “Keep your eyes peeled!” shouted Severa over her shoulder. Looking to her left and right, she could see small groups of people heading towards the village gates. Some of them looked up as the pegasus knights swept overhead, and their cheers came faintly to the knights’ ears. Cynthia, flushed with excitement, shaded her eyes with one hand. However, it was Teresa who called out first.

“Ahead of us, to the left!” She raised her lance, pointing. Severa looked in that direction and saw the indistinct forms of Risen moving across one of the fields, parallel to the road.

 _The terrain is mostly clear… good. This way we don’t have to worry too much about colliding with trees._ There were approximately a dozen of the Risen. Slightly over half of them were shambling, hulking revenants, their movements as jerky as a puppet with half its strings cut. Behind them were an assortment of humanoids that might have been a gang of bandits in life. Two carried axes, one a sword, and two held lances in their rotting hands. _No archers, thank Naga. That would be a real nightmare on their first deployment._

Cynthia signaled twice. _“Break by pairs. Attack run._ ” Severa settled into a position at Cynthia’s wing. “All right, Cynthia, handle this,” she called ahead, grinning.

“Easy peasy!” Cynthia called back, holstering her lance and hefting a gold-bound tome in front of her. She held up her free hand, pointing it towards the nearest Risen, and shouted the spell. “ _Thoron!_ ”

Twisting bolts of lightning sprang from her palm, scorching their way through two of the lead revenants. Severa hung back, looking back over her shoulder as their comrades made their move. Paula, Teresa, and Ellen flew lead. Equipped with lances, they swooped lower, the hooves of their pegasi almost skimming the ground as they closed for combat. Paula and Teresa both made solid contact with their targets, and two axemen fell, dissolving into dust. Ellen, nerves getting the better of her, pulled up too early and missed the swordsman.

The Risen’s heads turned at an inhuman angle to watch them go, twisting almost completely around, and Severa felt a faint wave of nausea. She suppressed it and looked forward for Cynthia’s next signal. The commander signed a moment later. _“Switch lead unit. Re-engage.”_

“Oh, all right,” she muttered, urging Blizzard past Starlight and into the lead.

Cynthia grinned at her as she flew by, flashing her a thumbs-up and shouting, “Go, go, go!”

Lowering her lance, Severa headed in the direction of the swordsman that Ellen had missed. Renee, Lily, and Zoe followed, switching with their respective wingmates and taking the lead. Severa, flying more swiftly than the others, rammed her lance through the body of the Risen swordsman, feeling the familiar sensation of the body crumbling to dust beneath her weapon. _Been awhile, hasn’t it?_ One of the lancers lunged forward, stabbing at her, but she swung her own lance, batting the thrust aside as she passed. She heard Cynthia give a whoop from behind her and felt a flash of light and heat at her back. She didn’t have to turn to know that another bolt from Cynthia had evaporated the creature.

Another two revenants fell to Renee and Zoe’s lances, but a sudden shout from behind Severa made her heart leap into her throat. She turned to see Lily toppling from her saddle, the lance of the remaining Risen bandit through her leg. She hit the ground hard, rolling with the momentum, and screamed with pain as the lance was torn free. The other revenants moved towards the prone knight, claws extended.

Frantically, Severa pulled at Blizzard’s reins, trying to bring her mount about, but she already knew that she wouldn’t be able to turn in time. None of the other knights would be able to help either: they had already passed by.

All but one, that is.

Teresa, shouting a battle-cry, hefted her lance and hurled it at the first revenant, simultaneously pulling at her pegasus to slow it. The weapon passed all the way through it, sticking in the ground beyond, as Teresa landed between Lily and the second revenant. She reached behind her in the saddle, drawing a long dagger, and leaned down out of the saddle as her pegasus charged forward. The blade stuck in the creature’s eye, and as it flailed to the ground, her mount trampled it into the dust.

As the Risen soldier moved forward to pick up its lance, Teresa wheeled her mount. Almost casually, she plucked her lance from the ground and, as the creature straightened, stabbed it through the chest. It dissolved, the dark magic that gave it false life dissipating.

Teresa jumped down from the saddle and ran over to Lily, dropping her lance in her haste. Severa landed moments later, already pulling her staff free. Teresa pulled Lily into a sitting position, cradling her to keep her from falling back.

“Ngh… Teresa, that really was something,” said Lily weakly. “Really beautiful, the way you handled that…”

“How is she?” said Severa, running up.

“Losing blood fast,” said Teresa, her tone grim. “I think the lance hit a vein.”

“I’m really tiiiiiiired,” Lily muttered. She giggled weakly. “Sleepy sleep time…”

“Try to stay awake, Lily,” said Teresa, as Severa cut away at the fabric of Lily’s uniform to examine the wound. The soldier’s guess had been correct: the thrown lance had punctured one of the deep veins, sending a steady stream of blood flowing onto the ground. _This could be tricky._

“Just keep her talking, Teresa,” said Severa, lowering the staff towards the wound. “Don’t let her fall asleep.”

Teresa nodded. “Lily, just focus on my face, all right? Listen to my voice.”

Lily giggled again. “Mmm. Yeah, I guess I could do that. You have a nice voice… nice face…”

 _Now is hardly the time for flirtation,_ Severa thought irritably. She tuned out the others’ voices until they were no more than background noise, bending all of her concentration on knitting together Lily’s leg. _Healing is one hell of a hard job… I don’t think anyone gave Brady enough credit for what he did._

Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead as she channeled magic through the staff. Slowly but surely, the wound began to close, and Lily’s breathing steadied. As the wound closed, Severa allowed the light to fade and sat back with a sigh of exhaustion. She realized, with a jolt of panic, that she could no longer hear Lily talking: the Feroxi’s eyes had closed.

“Is she—?” she began, her tone panicky.

“Sleeping,” said Teresa, placing two fingers at the hollow of Lily’s neck to take her pulse. “She seems to be fine.”

“Thank Naga for that,” said Severa, nearly faint with relief. Blizzard had walked up behind her, and she leaned heavily against the pegasus’s legs, prompting her mount to lip affectionately at her hair.

“You sound almost concerned,” Zoe drawled.

“Of course I’m concerned!” Severa let a wry note enter her voice. “And not just because training a replacement would take too long. I don’t want anyone’s hard work—mine, or yours—to go to waste.”

The green-haired woman shrugged. “Kind of you to say so, I suppose.”

“You _suppose_?” Severa said, glaring.

Cynthia stepped in, her tone almost giddy with relief. “Now, now, let’s not fight. Look on the bright side: since you had some practical training today, we can be done with drills for the day.” She giggled at her own joke, though nobody else seemed to find it as funny.

Paula raised an eyebrow. “Bright side?”

“P-practical tr-training?” Ellen stammered.

“Our commander’s bad jokes aside, you did a good job,” said Severa. “Keep it up, and I might eventually be convinced to admit that I trained you.”

That, at least, was enough to get Paula to smile. “That’s our sub-commander.”

Cynthia nodded decisively. “Right! We should take care of everything before we clear out. Paula and Renee, head over to the village and let them know that everything is clear. Zoe and Ellen, make sure that the battlefield is cleaned up. We don’t want to risk farmers stepping on some rusty Risen weapons.”

“I’ll see to finding a cart for Lily,” said Severa, getting to her feet and brushing dirt off the back of her uniform. “There’s no chance she’ll be riding back to the capital.”

“Thanks, Sevvy,” said Cynthia.

As the knights went about their tasks, Severa patted Blizzard on the neck. “Good work out there, girl. I’ll make sure you get a treat at dinner tonight, eh?”

The pegasus made an approving sound, butting her head playfully into Severa’s chest. “Glad you approve. Now then, we’ve got a job to do. Shall we be off?”

In a pounding of hooves and a flurry of feathers, mount and rider winged their way off into the blue summer sky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That ended up being about twice as long as any other given chapter I've written for this, but I suppose that's what happens with action scenes. Now that it's November, I'll also be working on a NaNoWriMo, so there's a chance that these chapters will come more slowly, but they'll still be on their way.
> 
> Enjoyed the chapter? Leave a comment for the sake of the brief feeling of vindication it gives me after repeatedly refreshing my dashboard to check my fic's progress. ;D


	8. Correspondence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the pegasus knights recover after their experience in the field, Severa receives a letter from an old friend.

Two weeks had passed since the pegasus knights’ foray into the field, and things had almost returned to normal back in Ylisstol. After a week of bed-rest, Lily had finally begun walking again, and although she was still leaning on a crutch, Severa estimated that she’d be ready to resume training by the end of the month.

At least something good had come out of Lily’s injury: the recruits, usually content to keep to their own small groups, had bonded over their concern for their comrade. They almost always sat together during meals, now, crowding together on the benches and conversing animatedly. The normally aloof Teresa had been the most invested in Lily’s recovery, bringing her meals every day while she was confined to the infirmary and helping her limp down to the mess hall thereafter. Today, as Severa walked down the colonnade, she sighted the pair of them walking together in the garden, Teresa steadying Lily with one arm as the Feroxi knight carefully walked up and down. _They’ve certainly been spending a lot of time together… maybe it wasn’t just one-sided, after all._ She found herself smiling at the thought, but the smile quickly faded as she thought of her own situation.

 _Honestly, I envy them._ Teresa and Lily were both from common families: there was no pressure on them to make a politically advantageous match, or to bear children. They were free to explore their feelings for each other as they wished—and if it turned out that it truly was love between them, to act on them.

 _It could never be that easy for me._ There were too many factors involved. Lucina was the Exalt of Ylisse, the descendant of a long line that supposedly stretched back to the Hero-King Marth himself. For untold years, the Exalted bloodline had been the world’s only defense against the Fell Dragon—passing down the Brand of Naga and the Falchion in preparation for Grima’s return. If not for Lucina’s heroic lineage, there would have been none who could have prevented Grima from destroying the world. _Oh, mother… you would have been far more suitable for Chrom than I could ever be for his daughter._

 _I swore an oath to uphold the royal house of Ylisse._ Severa leaned against the railing, shutting her eyes tightly. _An Exalt must have an heir. The Brand of Naga must be passed down, and Falchion must always have a wielder._ The words ran through her head like a litany, long-memorized and driven deep into her mind. _Any one of those things would be damning enough on its own. I cannot abandon my duty, much less ask Lucina to abandon hers with me._

_I could never be so selfish._

“E-excuse me, sub-c-commander?” The call came from further down the colonnade, and Severa turned her head to see Ellen tentatively moving towards her.

“What is it?” she asked, somewhat more harshly than she had intended to.

“U-uh, someone d-delivered this to the g-gate this m-m-morning,” said Ellen, holding up what seemed to be a letter. Severa crossed her arms and waited for the recruit to continue, turning fully towards her.

Ellen took a deep breath, obviously concentrating hard on suppressing her stutter, and continued. “They said… to give it to you.” She pushed it awkwardly forward. The moment that Severa accepted it, Ellen saluted, turned on her heel, and fled.

 _I suppose that I could have been a bit politer,_ Severa thought guiltily. She glanced down at the letter. However, the moment she saw the handwriting on the outside, that guilt was quickly overcome by excitement. _Noire wrote back!_

She hurried out into the garden and sat down at one of the long stone benches. As soon as she had settled in, she eagerly tore the letter open and began reading.

\---

_Dear Severa,_

_Thank you so much for writing. I’m glad that you’re doing well. Lately, I’ve been keeping myself busy by making good-luck charms. Happiness curses are a lot different than the kind that I’m used to, but I’m getting pretty good at them. If they’re good enough to cheer me up, I must be doing something right._

_Things are pretty lively around the barracks. Kjelle’s as tough as ever, and I’m pretty sure that half of the new recruits are terrified of her. She complains a lot about how difficult it is to whip them into shape, but I think she really enjoys it. As for Owain… let’s just say that I never expected him to be so tough on the new recruits. He’ll launch into a long speech about “the sacred bond between a hero and their accoutrement” if he sees so much as a speck of dirt on someone’s gear. It’s actually really effective. I think even Kjelle is impressed._

_Laurent has had his hands full with running the Shepherds. Luckily, he has enough of the old records to get the general idea, and he’s catching on really quickly. (Like any of us would have expected otherwise!) He’s actually trying to call together a meeting of the old group, just to check in on how everyone’s doing. It’s kind of weird to think that, even though we live only a few hours away from each other, it’s been months since we met up. Inigo, Brady, and Yarne have already said that they’ll be coming, Nah will be there too, and even Gerome will be flying over from Valm for a visit. So I thought I’d invite you in this letter._

_We’re planning on meeting at noon on the twelfth of August, out in the field by Southtown. Hopefully we’ll see you there: there’s a lot that I’d like to talk about._

_Always your friend, Noire_  

\---

Severa folded up the letter with a smile on her face. _A meeting, huh? That sounds wonderful._ She scratched idly at her cheek with one finger. _The twelfth... That’s two days from now. I think we could afford to give our subordinates the day off of training—they’ve been working hard enough that they deserve at least a little break._

Tucking the letter into her pocket, Severa got up and headed back in the direction of her room to stow it away. As she rounded the corner, she caught sight of Lucina and Cynthia strolling down the hallway in the opposite direction, chatting. Both of them looked up when they saw Severa, and Cynthia waved cheerfully. Severa could see a sheet of paper in Cynthia’s hand: she assumed it was a similar letter to the one she held.

“Hey, Sevvy, is that a letter from the Shepherds?” said Cynthia.

“Yeah. You, too?”

“Yup!” Cynthia grinned. “It’s pretty nice that we’ll be able to see them soon. Only…”

Severa noticed the downcast expression on Lucina’s face and spoke up. “What’s wrong, Lucina?”

“I… didn’t get a letter,” the princess said. “Do you think they forgot about me?”

“Wh-what? Of course not!” Severa crossed her arms.

Cynthia nodded quickly “Yeah, they probably thought it was obvious that you were invited, so they didn’t need to send a letter.”

“Or they were worried that you would be too busy, and didn’t want to bother you,” Severa added. “They didn’t want you to be stuck feeling like you needed to go if you had other things to do.”

“They probably just assumed that we would tell you, anyway,” said Cynthia.

“Yeah, what she said.” The pair exchanged a look, hoping that Lucina was reassured. At last the Exalt smiled.

“I’m sure you’re right. Well, I’m looking forward to seeing everyone. We can all go out there together. I’ll make arrangements for the capital, and we can make a day of it.” She nodded to both of them. “Well, I should go start planning. I can hardly wait!” She practically floated off down the hall, stepping lightly.

Cynthia and Severa watched her go and, as soon as she was gone, heaved an almost simultaneous sigh. “Well,” Severa muttered.

“Well,” Cynthia agreed.

“It’s a good thing Lucina is such a straightforward person,” said Severa. “She didn’t take much convincing.”

Cynthia blinked. “Does that mean you actually think they forgot her?”

“Of course not!” Severa snorted. “They probably had exactly the same reasoning that we told her. But that’s no excuse for hurting Lucina’s feelings. When I see that egghead Laurent again, I’ll give him a piece of my mind…”

Cynthia wrapped an arm around Severa’s shoulders, giggling. “Aww, Sevvy, you _do_ care.”

Severa quickly shrugged it off, blushing slightly. “Hey, don’t get the wrong idea.”

Cynthia bounced away a few steps. “Well, anyway, I’d better let the trainees know that they’re going to have a day off. I’m sure that if they plan ahead they’ll be able to think of plenty of fun things to do with it.” She waved again. “Later, Sevvy!”

“Yeah, later…” _Gods, I can’t keep up with her._ Severa sighed. _Well, for better or for worse, I suppose that it will still be nice to see the others again. We have a lot of catching up to do._

Tucking the letter into her pocket, Severa continued down the hall.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a brief delay, the next chapter is here. I'm working towards the only other connection that I have with the official canon (i.e. the "true" epilogue of Future Past 3); after that, where it goes is anyone's guess! (Except me. I don't have to guess; I know exactly where it's going.) If I stack the word count for this on top of my NaNo, I'm still perfectly on pace. But I could probably stand to do a bit more...
> 
> As always, comments, bookmarks, recommendations, and other such indications that you have been entertained are greatly appreciated ^_^


	9. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several months after Grima's defeat by Lucina, Laurent calls together a meeting of the Shepherds. Lucina decides to attend, with Cynthia and Severa accompanying her.

The morning of the meeting dawned bright and clear. Severa and Cynthia headed down to the stables to saddle Blizzard and Starlight, and were tightening up their saddle-girths when the Exalt arrived. Lucina’s smile looked like that of an excited child: she was anxious to be able to see her friends again after all of the time they had spent apart.

“Are you two ready to go?” she said brightly.

“Yup! All ready here!” Cynthia said.

“Just about,” Severa replied, just a beat behind.

“Do you mind if I ride with one of you?” said Lucina, a slightly sheepish expression on her face. “I know that we planned on flying down there together, but I’m not really the best rider.”

 _Wait-wait-wait, ride_ with _one of us?_ Severa’s pulse skyrocketed. _This could be my chance to—_

“You can ride behind me, Lucy!” said Cynthia, beaming. “Starlight will have no problem carrying us both.”

“Thank you,” said Lucina. She stepped forward and petted Starlight’s nose. “And thank you, too, Starlight.” The pegasus snorted bashfully.

Severa’s eye twitched. _Too slow_. She took Blizzard’s reins, leading her own pegasus out of her stall. “Come on, you can pet Starlight later. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late.”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Cynthia, leading Starlight out as well. Lucina followed after her, humming happily to herself. _Oh gods. She_ is _an excited child._

Severa took the lead, taking off first. Once Blizzard was smoothly gliding, she glanced back over her shoulder, seeing Starlight a ways back with Cynthia and Lucina in the saddle together. Lucina had her arms wrapped around Cynthia’s waist, and the pair were laughing together as the wind blew back their hair. She felt a brief pang of jealousy. It wasn’t that she considered Cynthia a rival—after hearing a few of the things Cynthia had said about the male Shepherds, Severa was almost certain that her interests lay in the opposite direction—but the chance to spend time together with Lucina was something she envied.

She turned back to face the front and banished those thoughts from her mind. _Better to not think of it. It’s not like it’ll accomplish anything._

The flight to Southtown was just over half an hour. With gentle winds and clear skies, it passed by pleasantly enough. They passed over the village and swooped down in a long, gentle arc towards the field. The meeting was to take place near a grove of trees, to provide them some shade: even though it was August, the sun was still very warm. Severa saw most of the others already gathered, but she landed near the edge of the field—partially because she didn’t want to disturb the meeting by landing directly in the center, and partially because she didn’t want to be the first one of the trio to show up. She dismounted and waited for Cynthia to land.

Lucina slid down from the saddle almost as soon as Starlight’s hooves touched the ground. She smiled broadly, beckoning to Cynthia and Severa. “Come on, let’s go!” She strode off without waiting for an answer, Cynthia directly behind her—still in the saddle, for some reason. Severa followed at a more measured pace.

Laurent was in the middle of talking as they approached. “So, is everyone here? We should get started.”

“Pardon me,” said Lucina, stepping forward. “Do you mind if I join you?”

There was a moment of shocked exclamations from most of the others as she stepped out from behind the tree. Severa, still out of their view as she unsaddled Blizzard, rolled her eyes. _And where did Cynthia go? Did she take off again?_

“Shouldn’t you be in the castle?” said Brady, scratching at the back of his neck with one hand.

Lucina laughed. “Don't worry. I've left Ylisstol in the hands of capable soldiers. It'll be fine while I'm away.”

Severa stifled a laugh of her own at that. _Capable? Well, that’s not how I’d describe most of them, but I suppose that they’ll do just fine as long as we’re at peace._

“We're not worried about Ylisstol. We're worried about you!” said a male voice. Severa didn’t recognize the speaker at first, and did a double-take as she realized it was Gerome: without his mask, for the first time she could remember. _I guess he outgrew it, huh?_ The wyvern rider continued on, gesturing with one hand. “As gifted as you are with a sword, the exalt shouldn't be walking around alone.”

“Who said I was alone?” Lucina replied.

As Gerome blinked in confusion, Cynthia seemed to decide that was her cue. Starlight dove from the skies like a thunderbolt, landing directly in the center of the circle to complete Cynthia’s grand entrance on pegasus-back.”Ta-daaa! Say hello to Cynthia of the _all-new_ Ylissean Pegasus Knights!” _Ah, I see. She did take off again… she never could resist an opportunity for drama._

Even the normally unflappable Kjelle seemed stunned by the manner of Cynthia’s entrance, but she was the quickest to recover. “Cynthia?! Where did you come from?”

Sumia’s daughter beamed, humming happily to herself. “Great entrance, right? I always dreamed Phila's knights would one day ride again. And hey, if the Shepherds get another shot, who says the pegasus knights can't too?”

“Cynthia begged me, and I just couldn't say no,” Lucina explained with a smile.

Cynthia slid down from the shoulder and threw a companionable arm around the Exalt’s shoulders. “Hey, either way, you need protection, right? Win-win. Me and my sisters won't let anyone put a scratch on you!”

Noire spoke up; as usual, so softly that Severa almost had to strain to hear her. “Sisters? Who else is in the pegasus knights?”

 _Well, now that Blizzard is unsaddled, I guess I can’t really stall much longer…_ Severa took a deep breath and stepped out into the open. She couldn’t think of anything to say, and suddenly felt uncomfortable at the scrutiny of her friends.

“Severa?” Noire tilted her head to the side, puzzled. “I was wondering why I hadn't seen you at the Shepherds' camp. You enlisted in the pegasus knights?”

“Does it matter?” said Severa, reflexively switching back to sarcasm. At the others’ looks, she crossed her arms huffily. “Yeesh, I wasn't about to say no to Cynthia. And don't get it in your head that I want to be like my mother,” she added hurriedly.

Noire chuckled, obviously not buying it. “Heh. Why would I ever think that?”

Severa merely huffed again and turned away. She was quite proud of how she had phrased her excuse. _Denying that I want to be like my mother will convince them that’s the reason I joined the pegasus knights._ She stole a glance at Lucina’s back. _And they won’t pry into the reason why I_ really _did…_

Meanwhile, Cynthia had begun gushing to the rest of them about how the training was progressing. “Severa's _amazing_ , you guys. She handles a lance better than anyone, and you should see her toss a javelin! I bet Cordelia herself couldn't throw half as far. The rest of us have a lot of catching up to do.”

Nah grinned over at Severa. “I can see the capital is in good hands!”

“And I am too. So put your worries to rest,” added Lucina, smiling at Severa as well. That smile made Severa’s heart skip a beat, and she scratched at her cheek to cover her sudden blush of embarrassment.

Luckily, nobody was looking at her, as the Exalt continued on. “And really, can you blame me for coming? You gather everyone together and don't even invite me? I've missed you!”

There were a few guilty looks from the others, but it was Owain who finally spoke up to break the ice. “You take after your father, Lucina. At least from what I've heard. ...Anyway, here we all are. The Twelve Heroes!” He clapped his hands together in a brisk, businesslike manner. _I guess he really is a real officer, now._ “Let's get this meeting started, Laurent.”

The mage straightened his glasses and pulled a few papers from his pack. “Right you are.” Laurent cleared his throat. “Thank you for all coming to this regular meeting of the Shepherds. The purpose of this meeting is twofold: firstly, as a renewal of the bonds between comrades; and secondly, as a debriefing of sorts for the war against Grima.” He paused for a moment. “Well, I suppose that debriefing would not be an entirely accurate term, as it would imply the war was completely over…”

“Yes, it’s important not to count our victories before they are won,” said Kjelle. “Grima may be gone, but our work is far from over.”

“And just when I thought I was safe, too,” moaned Yarne, nervously twisting his long ears between his hands.

“Hey, look on the bright side: you can deal with Risen more easily than those conservationists,” said Nah encouragingly.

Both of them fell silent as Laurent directed a glare in their direction. “As I was saying. Our main objective now that Grima has been defeated is the restoration of order throughout the Ylissean continent and, eventually, the Valmese Empire as well.” He nodded to Gerome. “You have been dedicating some time to that, have you not?”

“When I’m not in Wyvern Valley, yes,” said Gerome, idly scratching Minerva under the chin. The wyvern let out a long, low rumble that could easily have been the purring of a massive cat. “I’ve been working with the noble families of the eastern lands. They neighbored Rosanne before the Conqueror decided to rearrange the map, and many were allies of my father’s once upon a time. The occasional polite visit keeps them convinced that I’m the right man to replace my father as duke… and in the meantime, they’ve been performing admirably in leading relief efforts for the surrounding territories.”

Inigo nodded approvingly. “Using the name of House Virion to your advantage. Very shrewd of you.”

“I’d try to do the same for House Themis, but ya know… well, I ain’t exactly the perfect nobleman,” said Brady with a shrug.

Laurent gave him a sympathetic look. “Elocution isn’t everything, my friend.”

“Somewhere on the other side, Lady Maribelle was chilled by you saying so,” said Nah, smirking.

“We’re making good progress. By next spring, we should be ready to extend restoration efforts towards the Valmese capital, and perhaps to Chon’sin as well.” Gerome looked over at the others. “How are things over here?”

“Our valiant efforts have seen to the safety of most of Ylisse proper,” said Owain. “With the exception of a few isolated pockets, almost all of the Risen on our soil have been eradicated.”

“You could have been a bit more thorough,” said Severa. “We nearly got into trouble cleaning up after you.” Her smile softened the blow of her words—though only slightly.

“As far as the other countries go, however, we’ve got a long way to go,” said Kjelle. “Most of the refugees ended up in Ylisse, so it makes sense to concentrate our efforts here, but once the Shepherds and the pegasus knights have had more training, we’ll have to begin focusing our efforts outward.”

“Probably to Ferox, yeah?” said Brady. “Since they’re our ally and all.”

“I, um…” Noire spoke up diffidently. “I’m worried about Plegia, actually. I know it’s not really _my_ home, even if it was my mother’s, but… well, the people there have been through so much.”

“That’s a good point,” said Lucina, her brow furrowing. “After all, since Grima manifested there, theirs is the most devastated land. It’s also possible that many civilians who are not of the Grimleal have survived, and, if so, they will need our assistance.”

“Helping those in need is the heroic thing to do, after all,” said Cynthia, smiling.

“Bear in mind, before we get carried away,” said Laurent, “that these are longitudinal plans. We’ll have nothing definite until next spring, at least: it’s too late in the year to start a full military campaign of reclamation: we’d never get our supplies across the mountains in the middle of winter.”

“Plus, you’d have to negotiate with whatever passes for a government in Plegia,” Gerome pointed out. “I’m not sure who’s in charge after the war, but that would be good to find out.”

“That’s not really the sort of thing that you can ask straight out, given the terms your countries are on,” Nah pointed out.

Inigo raised a hand. “Brady and I could see to finding out more, if you want.”

“You and Brady?” said Severa. “What exactly makes you qualified to gather intelligence?”

“We’re capable enough to fend for ourselves, and I don’t think that anyone will see anything amiss about a couple of traveling performers.” He gave Severa one of his so-called _dazzling_ smiles. “Plus, if we can spread a little joy to the common folk as we go, it will certainly be worth the effort.”

Owain stroked his chin. “The plan has merit, to be certain.” He turned to his fellow officers. “Kjelle, Laurent, what do you think?”

“As long as they’re careful, I see no problem with it,” said Kjelle. “I have no objections.”

“Nor do I,” said Laurent. “When will you be departing?”

“Uh… probably not immediately,” said Inigo. “There are… things that we need to do—”

“He means that he doesn’t want to miss the Ylisstol Harvest Festival,” said Brady. “We’ve been workin’ on those dances for a long time, and it’d be a shame to waste ‘em, ya know?”

Laurent smiled. “Well, I suppose a small delay would be acceptable. After all, I would hate to miss out on Inigo’s dancing.”

“H-hey, don’t smirk like that!” A blush rose in Inigo’s cheeks as the rest of the group looked at him measuringly. “I get nervous, you know?”

“I’m glad that we have a plan for the Plegian situation,” said Laurent. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“Sure… no problem,” said Inigo, rallying to regain some of his usual confidence and charm. “Any time.”

Laurent shuffled around the papers once again, pulling out another report. “...And next, I have a report about the restoration of Mount Prism, which is—”

A sudden movement of Minerva’s neck was the only warning that they got before the wyvern reared her head back and roared. Severa clapped her hands over her ears, wincing. _Well, she’s as loud as ever…_

As the roar died down, Laurent pulled his own hands down and gave Minerva’s rider a level glare. “...Gerome. Please keep your mount quiet during the meeting.”

Gerome rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry.” He patted his wyvern on the snout, soothingly, but she continued to rumble. “...What is it, Minerva?” The wyvern let out another series of sounds, almost like speech. Gerome seemed to understand, for a look of concern came to his face the moment she finished. “...What?! This is bad. Minerva says she senses Risen nearby!”

Lucina gasped, looking off in the direction of the town. Severa could sense her Exalt’s thought process: her first instinct was to protect the people.

Gerome continued on, gritting his teeth. “Just a few of them, but... Damn! I thought we got rid of them all!” He began climbing up into Minerva’s saddle, wheeling her head about towards where she had smelled the Risen.

“I guess peace is an ongoing project,” said Yarne dolefully. He stretched, limbering up.

“We'll finish them off. These things take time,” Inigo supplied cheerfully.

Owain was significantly more dramatic as he unsheathed his sword and gave it a jaunty twirl. “And so the mighty heroes fought on, uncertain as to when their tale would end...”

“Hmph. Let the Risen come! We'll knock 'em into next week,” Brady muttered as he followed after them.

Nah bounced her dragonstone in her palm, grinning at Kjelle. “It has been a while since we've really flexed our muscles, hasn't it?”

The Shepherds’ co-commander chuckled, gripping her lance. “I know. I'm going to enjoy scattering these scoundrels.”

“I'm glad I brought my bow,” added Noire with a high, nervous giggle.

Laurent adjusted his glasses, frowning. “Now hold on just a moment! You're not _all_ marching out there, are you? It's just a handful of Risen.”

“Hey, ya never can be too sure!” said Brady.

Yarne nodded in agreement. “We shouldn't spare any resources when it comes to keeping the locals safe.”

“Better too many of us than too few,” Gerome added.

“Yes, Laurent.” Inigo turned back and took the Shepherds’ new tactician by the arm. “So stop complaining and get your equipment!”

Laurent’s tone was indignant. “What? I didn't volunteer!” At the looks the others were directing at him, however, he sighed and threw up his hands in defeat. “Oh, all right...”

As the group marched off, Owain crowed out in triumph. “Look out, vile Risen! Chrom's New Shepherds are about to ruin your day!”

The Exalt and her bodyguards watched them go: Lucina in bemusement, Severa in confusion, and Cynthia in disappointment. They had barely gotten out of sight when she spoke up. “Um, Lucina...”

“What's wrong, Cynthia?” the Exalt replied.

“Do you think they'll be all right?”

Severa snorted at the question. “Against a handful of Risen? I think they can handle things. Come on. They haven't even been gone that long.” She paused for a moment. _Cynthia really wants to go out there. She misses being out in action. And…_ Severa came to a sudden realization. _If she leaves, that will leave me and Lucina by ourselves…_

 _This is my chance_. Severa smirked knowingly at Cynthia and continued on. “...Or wait, let me guess. You want an excuse to try out your new battle cries?”

“Th-that is _not true_ ,” said Cynthia poutily. “I'm just worried. That's all.”

Lucina exchanged a knowing glance with Severa before turning back to her knight-commander. “It's all right, Cynthia. I understand. Go check on our friends. Consider that an order from your exalt.”

Cynthia’s face lit up. “You mean it? Thanks, Lucina!” She dashed over to Starlight and, within moments, had launched off into the sky to catch up with the others.

Severa and Lucina stood side by side, watching her go. After a moment, Severa turned to her princess. “You sure you should be sending one of your guards away?”

The Exalt smiled at her. “I still have you, Severa. And let's not forget I have myself. I've smashed apart my share of Risen.” She patted Falchion’s worn hilt meaningfully.

Severa chuckled. “Ha! If they think the exalt's an easy target, they're in for a nasty surprise.” _She’s so strong, even on her own… Even alone, I know she would have found a way to win._ “You don't even need pegasus knights, do you? Not really.” Too late she realized that she had spoken the last sentences, voicing aloud her own insecurities.

Lucina gave her a disbelieving look. “Of _course_ I need you. You're the source of my strength.”

“Mm-hmm.” Severa looked away. _She’s just saying that to make me feel better._

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Lucina standing alongside her. The princess gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I mean it.”

“...If you say so.” Severa began twisting a few strands of hair around her finger, nervous. _Don’t just stand there, you idiot! Say something! Anything!_ She tugged at the strands, feeling the light pull against her scalp. _I…_

Kjelle’s voice echoed through her head. “ _Grima may be defeated, but our work is far from over._ ” Severa gritted her teeth. _Gods… nothing can be simple, can it? Lucina has her purpose, and I have mine._

She drew away, injecting false cheer into her voice. “Well, Cynthia's got her orders, so why don't you and I wait for her at the castle? I'll give you a ride. Let me just get saddled up, and I'll be right back.”

The Exalt smiled. “Thank you, Severa.”

It took her longer than it usually would to saddle Blizzard: her hands seemed clumsier than usual, as if numbed by the cold. At last, though, she managed to do it. She turned, seeing Lucina staring up at the sky as if in a trance, and shouted, “Lucina! All ready!”

Lucina turned to her with a smile and called back. “I’ll be right there!”

Moments later, with Lucina’s arms wrapped around her waist, Severa spurred Blizzard into the sky.

“This was nice,” said Lucina, once they’d leveled out. “It was good to see everyone again, even if the meeting did get cut short.”

“We’ll have more time to catch up with them at the festival, hopefully,” said Severa. Lucina was warm against her back, and she determinedly squashed the thoughts she was having.

“I hope so.” Lucina leaned her head against Severa’s shoulder, the last word extended by a long yawn.

“Sleepy already?” said Severa incredulously. “It’s barely past noon!”

“I couldn’t… sleep much last night,” said Lucina. “Too excited…”

“Well, make sure that you get some sleep when we get back to the castle, all right?”

“All right,” Lucina said. “Though I might just… right now…” Her head sagged against Severa’s back again.

Severa put a hand to Lucina’s arm wrapped around her stomach, smiling. “Don’t worry, Lucina. I won’t let you fall.”

“Appreciate it,” the Exalt murmured. Within a few moments, her steady breathing let Severa know that she was dozing.

 _Lucina… Even if I can never truly be your equal, perhaps this will be enough._ The warmth on her back, Lucina’s steady breathing, the soft wind of Blizzard’s passage through the skies: it was a truly idyllic moment, one that Severa almost wished would never come to an end.

_As long as I can continue to be by your side…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably the trickiest chapter to write so far (as well as the longest), given that it's the only other canon event listed in the Future Past timeline. Since most of the dialogue was already written, I just had to fill in the emotions (as well as make a few minor alterations, and add the main body of the meeting that was glossed over in the epilogue proper). Everything that happens from now on will be an exciting mystery!


	10. Memorial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a certain day, as summer wanes and the leaves begin to change color, Severa flies out from the capital by herself, bound for the mountains.

The end of August was fast approaching. The leaves had changed color, and the days grew shorter as a chill entered the air. The warm, cleansing rain of summer had given way to cold drizzle that did nothing but add to the dreary atmosphere. It was on one such morning, when most of the others had stayed indoors, that Severa made her way down to the stables. It had been two weeks since the meeting between the Shepherds—two weeks since she had flown back to Ylisstol with Lucina slumbering against her back.

Today, she would be flying alone.

She carried a pack with her, slung across both shoulders to distribute the weight. A heavy wooden box was carefully settled at the bottom. On top of it were stacked several small, cloth-wrapped bundles of bread, meat, and cheese: her meals for the day. She had put them together in the kitchen after supper the previous day, setting them down on the floor of the cold-room overnight to keep them fresh.

Severa had dressed in her winter clothes: she had no desire to get sick because she hadn’t taken sufficient care with her dress. Woolen underclothing, a thick felt tunic, a fur-lined hat and gloves, a worn-out knitted scarf, and an oiled rain-cloak complemented her usual practical breeches and boots. The cloak, a gift from Noire from a few years ago, shed water as easily as the feathers of a duck—something to do with hexes, she expected. Severa was actually sweating slightly from all of the layers, but she knew that she would be grateful for them once she was in flight. The wind, the rain, and the high altitude would leech every bit of warmth out of her body without sufficient protection.

Blizzard, a warm blanket thrown over her back, gave Severa a doleful look as the knight took her saddle down from the rack. “I know, girl, I know,” Severa muttered. “On any other day I would let you stay in and eat all the hot mash you wanted. But today…”

The pegasus nuzzled at her owner’s hand, reassuringly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” said Severa, pulling off the blanket and settling the saddle onto Blizzard’s back.

A few minutes later, they were in the air, winging their way to the west. Within an hour of their departure, the rain had grown worse, falling heavily and steadily. The droplets stung Severa’s face, and she ducked her head, letting her hood take most of the water as she pulled her scarf up over her lower face. Breathing into the scarf kept her face pleasantly warm, and made her feel slightly less like her nose was going to freeze up and fall off. She bent low in the saddle, letting the warmth of Blizzard’s back keep her warm as well. The flight out to her destination was a long one, and she wanted to stay warm for as long as she could.

She landed once, around noon, to give Blizzard a rest and to eat the first of her meals under the cover of a tree. By the time that she was finished, the rain had cleared a bit, and Blizzard took to the air with new energy. The rain had nearly stopped by now. They were close to the Plegian border, with the mountains looming before them. As they flew over the foothills, Severa nudged Blizzard’s flanks with her heels, sending her pegasus into a long, lazy spiral towards the ground. They landed on the road, and Severa slipped out of the saddle as soon as they did, figuring that Blizzard had earned a rest. The pegasus shook her wings, spraying Severa with water—luckily, the rain-cloak deflected most of it—before folding them across her back. Then, placidly, she followed Severa up the hill.

The exertion of the climb had her breathing hard within a matter of minutes, and she pulled her scarf back down to ease her breathing. Severa’s boots were soon covered with mud, and she came close to slipping a few times on the slick surface, but a hand on Blizzard’s shoulder helped her stay steady. The pegasus, white coat flecked with mud, snorted as if in reproof, and Severa rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, don’t scold me. I’m trying to be nice to you.” At another snort, she continued on. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to give you a good wash and brush as soon as we get back.”

As they approached the top of the pass, Severa kept a careful eye on the road ahead of her, trying to spot the proper place to turn. She had only been here three times before, and each time her mother had been leading the way. She was relieved when she saw the shape of a trail winding between a grove of gnarled pine trees. _It isn’t much further, now._ She patted Blizzard on the shoulder, securing the pegasus’s reins loosely to the saddlebow so they wouldn’t get tangled in Blizzard’s legs as she grazed. She pulled her pack down from Blizzard’s saddle and shouldered it before nodding to her mount. “All right, girl, I’ll be back in a while. Try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone, got it?”

Blizzard made an amused noise and nosed at Severa’s shoulder before wandering off. Severa took a deep breath and turned back to the path.

The path was almost entirely silent. Severa could barely even hear her own footsteps: the path was buried deep in pine needles, which felt like a cushion under her boots. She had to brush several branches out of her way to get through. One of them, brown and dead from lack of water or sun, showered her with needles as her cloak caught on it. She shook as many of them out of her hood as she could and pressed on.

At last, she reached the grove. It had changed from the place she remembered: the grass was longer, more wild, and the standing stone at its center was weathered. She approached it and knelt in front of it, taking off her glove to feel the cool stone under her fingers. She hadn’t been here in eight years—not since she was twelve years old. Her hands had been much smaller then, but she had run them over the stone in the same way: wistfully, reverently, feeling out each individual letter etched into its surface. She cleared her throat, suddenly self-conscious despite the empty space around her.

“Um… hi, daddy.”

She paused, as if waiting for an answer, and laughed weakly. “Sorry I haven’t visited you lately. With the war, and the Risen everywhere, traveling was pretty dangerous. But now that it’s over… well.” _I haven’t been here since mom died… we used to visit him together, on this day every year._

“The weather isn’t very good right now… it’s wet, and cold, and completely miserable. I guess that a lot of people would call me crazy for being out in it, but at least I came prepared.” She held her scarf between her fingers, rubbing them across the worn knitting. “The scarf that you knitted me, back when I was a kid… I’m wearing it now. It’s still warm, and besides, it reminds me of you.”

Severa coughed awkwardly, searching for a new topic of conversation. “I… um, I’m one of the pegasus knights now. I kept on insisting that I would never do it, but I really did want to be like mom, and like you. I wanted to be able to stand by the Exalt’s side, like both of you did. You and mother both… you said it was your greatest pride as knights to be able to defend them. I think I understand now, what you meant.”

She smiled. “I’ve been training the new recruits for the pegasus knights. It’s hard sometimes, but whenever I’m stuck and can’t think of how to get them to work, I just think of what you’d say. I’ll never be as good a teacher as you were, of course, but I think I’ve accomplished a lot. I wonder if…” Severa shook her head. “No, I _know_ that you would be proud of me. You told me that yourself… only, I guess it wasn’t really you, was it, daddy?”

A breeze stirred the grass, bringing the scent of damp soil and pine needles to Severa’s nose. She could feel the moisture from the ground slowly sinking through the fabric at her knees, where she rested her weight. “Daddy… even though I knew that you were gone, it was good to see you again, one last time. To hear those words from you… those words that I always wanted to hear, after you were gone… it meant so much to me. I hope you know that. Even if I never said it out loud, I… I can never thank you enough for what you did. Both you, and mother. You showed me what it was to be a true knight, how to serve the ones that you… that you… loved.”

She bit her lip. “Daddy, I… I’m…” She took a deep breath. “I’m in love with Lucina.” Severa paused for a moment, a hand going to her mouth, as if saying it aloud had somehow changed something. Maybe it had. “I… I know it sounds crazy, but… I guess…” She laughed softly. “Well, you know how it is, I guess. Mother was always… well.” The young woman trailed off, awkwardly. Even speaking in front of her father’s grave, she had difficulty discussing matters of the heart. _I’m hopeless._

She thought back to her father: tall and strong, yet so kind and gentle with her and the other children. The same smiles that made hardened soldiers quake in terror would soothe her and her friends when they were frightened. The same voice that barked out orders for tasks that would break a wyvern’s back had read bedtime stories to her, going from high to low as he tried—usually unsuccessfully—to act out each of the characters. His hands, callused and scarred from long battles, had gently picked her up and held her, or carefully positioned her arms as she tried to learn how to fight. And his eyes…

There had been a faraway look in his eyes, as if something precious to him had been taken away. It had been there, even when he was with Severa and Cordelia: a look of such aching loss that recalling it made her want to cry. _Even when he was with us, his family…_ At long last, she realized what it had been; the reason for the sorrow in her father’s eyes. _He had also loved, and lost._ Teary-eyed, she smiled. “I guess… I guess you would understand better than anyone, daddy. You loved him too, didn’t you? The same way that mother did. You just hid it better, didn’t you?”

Severa wiped her sleeve across her eyes, letting out a half-sobbing giggle as the motion merely served to smear more rainwater across her face. “Well, thanks for talking to me, daddy. Even if it was only for a little while, I’m glad that we could chat again. I’ve missed you.” She reached into her pack, pulling out the box from underneath her cloth-wrapped supper, and laid it on the ground in front of her. “I… brought you something. I guess it’s not much of a gift, but it’s really important to me, and I thought that you should have it back.”

Slowly, reverently, she opened the lid of the box and drew forth its contents: jagged metal shards, the pieces of a shattered sword-blade. She brought each forth carefully, careful not to cut her fingers on the broken edges. Last came the hilt, a few inches of broken blade still attached. “I… I saved these, all this time. I know that it was silly of me: I could have used the metal for something else, after it broke. Maybe it was wasteful. But I always… I wanted to bring these back to you. I wanted to give you back the gift that you gave me. You saved my life more times than I can count, and this sword was my reminder.”

Severa laid the hilt of the sword on the grass beneath Frederick’s gravestone, falling silent. “Daddy… happy birthday.” She thought for a moment that the rain had come back, but the water running down her face was warm, and mildly salty to the taste. There had only been a few tears before, but now it was as if a floodgate had been opened. She cradled her face in her hands, her voice choked, her shoulders shaking. “I know… I know that you told me to be strong, but… just this once… I’ll cry for you, okay?” Her voice broke on the last word, and she gave vent to the grief she had kept bottled up for so long. Kneeling in the grass before her father’s grave, Severa wept for her own parents, for Lucina’s parents, for all the lives that the war had claimed. She wept for Lucina’s lost childhood, for the burden that the woman she loved had been forced to bear.

Last of all, she wept for herself.

She cried until her nose ran, her voice was hoarse, and her cheeks were stained red by salt. She cried until she was hiccuping unevenly, without a shred of dignity. She cried until she had no tears left to cry.

When she was finished, she brought her sleeve up to her face, wiping away as much of the mess as she could. For a moment, she had the sensation of arms wrapping around her, of a reassuring voice in her ear, the feather-soft touch of a kiss on her forehead. For a moment, it was as if her father and mother were there beside her, close enough to reach out and touch. She knelt there for a moment longer, clinging to that feeling of togetherness.

As she stood at last, it began to rain. She turned her face upwards, eyes closed, and breathed deep, letting the water wash over her skin. Then, pulling up her hood, she turned and strode down the path, purpose in every stride. Ahead of her was the future that her father, and so many others, had died to win her.

Behind her, she left one broken sword and a world of troubles.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> August 26th is Frederick's birthday, which is something that I was keeping in mind when putting together my outline of the story. I had it in my head that Severa and Cordelia would have visited him on his birthday before Cordelia died, and that this would be the first time in years that she was able to go back.
> 
> NaNoWriMo has been an... interesting experience so far, to say the least. I'm doing it with a group of friends, and I'm almost entirely certain that every single one of them is leaps and bounds ahead of me (though that probably has a lot to do with the fact that I'm trying my damnedest to edit as I go and come out with something vaguely publishable by the end of the month). My project-hopping habit isn't particularly helping either, but having this to work on when I'm stuck elsewhere is quite nice.
> 
> As always, I look forward to your feedback, whether that's pointing out areas in which I could improve or simply saying what your favorite part of the chapter is. Thank you for reading!
> 
> EDIT: Thought it might be apropos to mention that my listening list for writing this chapter included a lovely _a cappella_ rendition of [Gravedigger](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=21lTG4PkPmk). Some truly beautiful music, there.


	11. Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the week of the Harvest Festival fast approaching, Severa prepares to meet her friends once again.

September had gone by like a whirlwind, and October had come, bringing with it a fresh chill in the air and the promise of a bountiful harvest: the first in years. Ylisstol was abuzz with excitement, both at the prospect of a festival and at the word that the Twelve Heroes would be reuniting within their walls for the first time since the end of the war.

Severa paged idly through her book, stifling a yawn. She sat close to the small stove in the corner of her room, letting its warmth wash over her and the blanket that she had wrapped herself in. Her feet, covered by thick woolen socks, were crossed over each other and propped up on the small, low table in front of her. Training for the day was done, dinner was over, and she was finally free to relax.

She felt a sneeze coming on and quickly moved the book out of the line of fire. Despite her best efforts, she still had a bit of a cold. She’d boiled water for tea as soon as she got back to her room, but she’d been too absorbed in her book—a rousing chronicle of the Hero-King Marth’s adventures—to actually follow through on making tea, and the kettle sat forgotten.

A knock on the door made her look up. “It’s unlocked,” she called. “You can come in.”

The door opened, and Noire poked her head into the room. “Hi, Severa.”

Severa tucked a scrap of paper between the pages to mark her place and set the book aside. “Noire! I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow, at least.” She gestured invitingly towards the chair next to her.

“I know that the festival week doesn’t technically start until tomorrow, but I thought it would be better if I was in town to begin with,” said Noire, smiling shakily as she sat down. “Since I got here today, I was able to reserve a place to set up my stand.”

“For your happiness charms?”

“And a couple of other things. I came over from the Shepherds’ barracks with a whole cart full.”

“Full of what, exactly?” said Severa, curious.

Noire shrugged, self-deprecatingly. “Nothing too fancy, and not my own ideas, anyway. I was looking around in my parents’ old work-tomes to see if there was anything they’d been working on before the war. Trinkets, mostly: little cloth finger-wrappings with a warming hex to help with winter sewing, extra-flammable wooden blocks to get fires started, pendants to ward off sickness—”

Severa sneezed loudly into her sleeve. The younger woman jumped in surprise, then giggled. “Whew. Sounds like you should have bought yours a while ago.”

“It’s just a little cold,” grumbled Severa. “Wipe that smile off…”

“Well, that wasn’t just a _little_ sneeze,” said Noire. “Come on, Severa, you know that I can clear that sort of thing up in no time flat, don’t you?”

“And have my hair turn inexplicably blue again?” said Severa, raising her eyebrows. Noire blushed.

“Oh, come on, that happened _once_ , and I said I was sorry…”

Severa grinned. “I know, I’m just teasing you. But I’m fine. I have tea to drink.” She gestured towards the kettle by way of proof.

“Your tea isn’t going to instantly take care of your cold, is it?”

“Well, no, but it’s not a big deal…”

“Severa, I’ve gotten really good at dealing with small illnesses; ask anyone in the Shepherds.”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you—”

“It’s no trouble at all, really—”

“Look, I’ll just wait for it to clear up, and—”

“ _FOOL!_ ” said Noire suddenly, making Severa jump. Her teeth were clenched, and her hands white-knuckled on the arms of her chair. “Would you let your pride prevail over _COMMON SENSE_ , and traipse about the festival _sniveling_ like a _CHILD_ cheated of sweets?!” Severa could almost hear the wood creaking beneath Noire’s grip as she leaned forward. “It would be an unseemly display _indeed_ for someone who professes to serve the Exalt to go about _dribbling_ like a _BABY!_ Now still your objections and allow me to _CAST THIS FOUL AFFLICTION FORTH_!”

Severa blinked.

Noire slowly leaned back in her chair and put her head in her hands, turning crimson. “I _…_ I’m _so_ sorry, Severa, I just…” She peeked through her fingers at a noise from the other woman, seeing Severa shaking in her chair with both hands over her mouth, and sat bolt upright in confusion. “What are you—why are you laughing? What’s so funny?”

Severa finally gave up stifling her laughter. “It’s just… you were trying so hard to be nice that you got worked up about it! It’s _hilarious_!”

“B-but I yelled at you! Loudly!”

“Yes, but you did it because you care,” said Severa. “It’s actually really nice to know how… um, _passionate_ you can get.” That set her off again, and after a moment, Noire started laughing too, far more heartily than her usual nervous giggle.

At last, with aching sides, Severa manged to get herself under control. She threw up her hands in surrender. “Fine, _fine_ , I’ll let you get rid of my cold for me. But we are still going to drink that tea. _Together._ ”

“Fair is fair,” said Noire, still grinning broadly. “Anyway, after all the times that you took care of me back when we were younger, I need to start returning the favor.”

Severa shifted in her chair. “All right, what do I need to do?”

“Just sit back and close your eyes. Father’s hex will take care of the rest.” Severa complied. She felt Noire’s fingers at her temples, and heard her mutter a few words before hurriedly stepping aside.

It was just as well, since the hex prompted a sneeze so violent that Severa’s chair rocked. She shook her head to clear it and looked at Noire. “Gods, Noire, that really works. I feel better already.” She jumped to her feet, stretching. “Here, sit back down, I’ll make the tea. The water should still be hot.” As she stirred the water into two mugs and added the tea leaves, she glanced back over at Noire. “That hex must come in handy. How did your parents come up with it?”

“Actually, mother’s notes said that they got the idea for the hex from your dad,” said Noire. “Apparently, he said that he was so healthy, he could do away with a cold in one sneeze. Mother seriously doubted that was actually within human capability, but she and father did a bit of playing around with hexes to make it possible to induce that kind of thing.”

Severa chuckled. “That sounds just like daddy.” She handed Noire one of the mugs and sat back down with the other one.

The two sat quietly for a minute, letting their tea steep. Severa was the first one to break the silence. “I went to visit him not too long ago, actually.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah.” Severa cradled her mug between her hands. “I hadn’t been there since mom died. I hope he wasn’t too lonely.”

Noire gave her a gentle smile. “I think he understood that you had other responsibilities.”

“I guess so. Daddy did always say that duty came first, after all.”

“You do the whole ‘duty’ thing much better than I do,” said Noire. “Enlisting in the pegasus knights and all that. Compared to you, I’m not doing much…”

Severa gestured with her mug. “Um, hello? Who was it that was just talking about her cart full of useful hexes?”

“Um, I—”

“It certainly wasn’t _me._ ”

Noire shifted in her chair. “Well, I mean, I guess that’s _useful_ , but it’s not really the same as what you’re doing…”

“Look, Noire, can’t you just take a compliment?”

“I… I guess?” Noire sniffed at her tea. “Mm, mint. My favorite.”

“Don’t change the subject,” said Severa, waving a finger. “Daddy always told me that my duty was to find what I did best and do it to the best of my ability. So, by his logic, you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to.” She took a sip of her tea, satisfied that she had gotten her point across. Noire giggled.

“Bullying me into admitting my good points. That’s _just_ like you, Severa.”

“Hmph,” said Severa, blushing slightly. “If you’re not going to, _someone_ needs to.”

“Well, actually…” Noire trailed off and hurriedly took a sip of her tea.

“‘Well, actually’ what?”

“Um, nothing,” Noire said into her mug.

Severa smiled broadly, like a cat who has found a new toy. “It doesn’t _sound_ like it’s nothing…”

“I-it’s definitely nothing!” Noire’s cheeks slowly darkened in embarrassment.

“It doesn’t _look_ like it’s nothing…” Severa leaned forward eagerly. “Oh, come on, Noire, you can’t leave me hanging like this!”

“I… um… oh, all right,” said Noire. She took a deep breath. “Um, I’ve actually been writing letters to… someone else, recently. The letters I’ve gotten back do say things about my good points, and I… um…” Her fingers drummed nervously on her mug and she bobbed her head into several nervous nods. “Um, yes.”

“Which someone else?” said Severa, almost on the edge of her seat by now. “Is it someone I would know? Have you been exchanging letters very long? Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?”

“It’s… ummm…” Noire took a deep breath. “Yarne.”

“ _Yarne_? No way!” squealed Severa.

Noire grinned tentatively. “Yeah… he and I have always been a bit more—fragile?—than the rest of you. But he told me that he really admired how hard I tried to fight, no matter how scared I was. He said that inspired him to be a better person… to try harder, for the sake of everyone else.” She looked into her mug of tea. “He said he wanted to be more like me… that’s probably one of the best compliments I’ve ever gotten.”

“Aww, you two are so sweet.” Severa leaned back, shaking her head with a smile. “How long have you been… how did I not know about this?”

“Since just before we left for Plegia, actually,” said Noire. “We didn’t want to worry you and everyone else, so we kept it to ourselves.”

“But the war’s been done for months now! Why didn’t you tell us afterward?”

“Um, we had planned to, but… well, he told me that I should probably still keep it a secret,” Noire said.

Severa frowned. “A secret? Why?”

“You know how he’s dealing with all of those conservationists, right?”

“I think I remember something like that being mentioned.”

“Well, um, you see…” Noire’s blush deepened. “Um, he wants to make sure that they don’t start harassing me, too…”

“Why would they be harassing _you_?” said Severa, puzzled.

Noire, completely scarlet with embarrassment, rubbed at the back of her neck. “They want him to… ‘ _propagate the noble taguel race_ ,’ I think he said?”

Severa, midway through a sip of tea, spluttered and sprayed it all over the floor in front of her and nearly shrieked with laughter.

“Wh-what?” demanded Noire shakily, clutching at her mug with both hands.

“ _Propagate the noble taguel race_?’ Oh gods, that’s too much!” She slammed her mug onto the table and doubled over, cackling.

Noire blushed further. _And when I thought it was impossible for her to get redder, she does anyway._ “S-s-stop it!”

“I can’t help it!” Severa gasped, clutching at her side. “It’s too funny!”

“It’s _embarrassing!_ ”

Severa took a deep breath. _Okay, be serious._ She managed to stop laughing for a few moments, but one look at Noire’s mortified face—currently set in what was supposed to be a look of affronted dignity—set her off again. _Nope, can’t do it._

Noire struggled to maintain her own composure, but eventually her offended front cracked, and she began laughing as well.

It took a long while for both of them to calm down—mainly because every time that one of them got close to recovering, one look at the other would start the whole process over again—but at last they leaned back in their chairs, wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. Severa picked up her mug and took a long drink of the now-lukewarm tea.

“Two good laughs in one night," said Severa, still smiling. "That's a new record for me."

“Um… good?”

"Well, teasing aside, I’m happy for you,” said Severa. “I think you two are a good match. You’re good for each other.”

Noire giggled. “Well, I’m glad that I got your approval.” She drained her own tea in one long gulp and set down the mug. “Now, your turn to tell me about your love life.”

“What, _me_? Don’t be ridiculous,” blustered Severa, waving her free hand. “I’m much too busy to be thinking about that sort of thing.”

Noire’s smirk was the mirror of Severa’s from earlier. “It doesn’t _sound_ like you’re too busy…”

Severa pulled up her blanket to cover her burning cheeks. “No, it’s not—”

Noire’s eyes glinted. “It doesn’t _look_ like you’re too busy…”

 _The fact that she’s repeating things I said myself makes it even worse…_ Severa glared at Noire. “Well… I have been busy.”

“Busy with _what_?” Noire giggled. “Thinking about that special person?”

“Ugh, grow up.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going _on_ …”

Severa crossed her arms huffily. “Gods, you’re acting like a _child_.”

“And I’ll keep at it until you spill your secret. Come on, I promise I won’t tell anyone else—”

“I told, you, there _isn’t_ anyone!”

“Oh, _really_ —”

“Gods, will you just _drop it_?” Severa snapped. “It’s not going to work out, anyway! Not all of us can have romances straight out of fables, you know!”

Noire gaped at her for a moment, then spoke up in a very small voice. “I… I’m sorry, Severa.” She looked like she was about to cry.

All of Severa’s frustration instantly evaporated. “No, _I’m_ sorry. I shouldn’t have overreacted.”

“I’m still sorry…”

Severa sighed. “How about this? We’ll agree to forgive each other, even if we both think we’re the only one who needs to apologize. Deal?”

Noire’s mouth turned up slightly, shakily. “Deal.”

“Gods, I can’t stay mad at you for more than a second,” said Severa with a rueful shake of her head. “Yelling at you is like kicking a puppy. While it’s asleep.”

Noire giggled. “Well, speaking of sleep… it is getting pretty late. I should go find the room that they prepared for me.” She held up her mug. “Should I wash this, or…?”

“I’ll take care of it later,” said Severa, waving a hand. She got up to give Noire a hug good-bye. “Sleep well. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” said Noire. As she reached the door, she turned back, her nervous smile turning mischievous. “You _will_ let me know when you want to talk about your love life, right?”

Severa rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Get going before I throw this at you.” She brandished her mug grandly in the air.

“Goodnight!” said Noire. Then, with a giggle, she headed out of the room.

Severa sunk back into her chair as soon as Noire was gone. _Well, it was nice to talk to her, even if I did mess it up in the end…_ She sighed, swishing around the dregs of the tea in the bottom of her mug. _I shouldn’t have gotten angry at her. Gods, I should have_ told _her. It would be better than being the only one who knows…_

She shook her head. _Ugh, what am I thinking? That would just make it even worse. Gods forbid she get it into her head that me pursuing the Exalt is actually a good idea…_ Picking up her book, Severa headed over to bed.

She fell asleep halfway through a chapter, head pillowed on the open book.

Her dreams were full of flying.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~a.k.a. "the chapter that _could have been_ stand-alone Sev/Noire, if I had taken my friends' advice"~~
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I paged through a _lot_ of Noire's supports to find a pairing that I liked for her, and in the end I settled on Yarne: his dynamic with her is my favorite, since it concentrates on both of them growing stronger together and doesn't have Noire browbeating him (like she does to, say, Inigo or Laurent). Also because the idea of conservationists urging Yarne to procreate was too good to pass up, and Noire was the most likely to share that with Severa.
> 
> (Severa, as always, continues to be exactly like both of her parents in the unrequited love department.)


	12. Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severa’s father once told her that the loyalty and devotion of a knight must be as true as steel.

She was eight years old, and she dreamed of standing by the Exalt’s side, just like her parents did.

“Strike high! Strike middle! Strike low!”

Her wooden sword beat out a steady rhythm against the straw dummy, in time with the shouts. It may have been windy and snowing outside, but the confines of the armory seemed swelteringly hot. She was already breathing hard and sweating profusely, but she continued doggedly on despite the growing stitch in her side. She refused to slack off—especially since Lucina was right beside her.

The older girl was holding a larger practice sword, weighted with lead to help harden her muscles, and attacking her target with the same single-minded determination.  _High. Middle. Low. High. Middle. Low._ Even if it was just a training exercise, her face was serious.

“Stop!” At the call to end the drill, Severa was tempted to let her sword fall to the ground, but she’d been taught better. She lowered her sword and glanced to the side, seeing her father walking over to them.

“That will be all for today. You may return your weapons to the racks.” Frederick nodded approvingly, folding his arms across his chest. “Well done. You’re improving every day.”

Lucina nodded gravely. She would turn eleven in a few months, but she already had the dignified air of a woman decades older. Quiet and serious, she barely ever smiled, and laughed even more rarely. Severa tried to imitate her mannerisms, but at two years younger, she was much less adept than Lucina at hiding her feelings. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling proudly at her father’s praise as she carefully put away her sword.

“Sir Frederick?” said Lucina, her tone polite. “This is a bit earlier than we usually stop, isn’t it? It’s barely past noon.”

“Indeed it is, milady,” said Frederick. “But today is special.” He placed one hand on Severa’s shoulder, a rare smile coming to his face as he looked down at his daughter. “Tomorrow is Severa’s ninth birthday, but I had something special planned for tonight.”

“Something special, daddy?” said Severa eagerly. “What do you mean?”

Frederick tousled her hair. “I think it’s time that we made your first sword.”

Hearing that made Severa squeal with delight. She bounced up and down, grabbing at her daddy’s hand. “Really? Really?”

“Really really,” said Frederick, squeezing her hand back.

Lucina spoke up somewhat uncertainly. “Umm… can I watch, too? I promise I won’t get in the way…”

“Lucy can help, right?” said Severa, running over to her friend. “I bet she’s  _the best_ at helping!”

Frederick smiled at the two girls. “Of course she can help. It will be good to have an extra pair of hands.” He beckoned to them. “Here, follow me.”

The forge was across the courtyard from the armory, and the three hurried across, trying to get out of the cold as quickly as possible. Severa nearly slipped on the ice-slick paving stones, but her father caught her arm before she could fall, keeping her on her feet. They entered the forge, faces flushing with the sudden heat.

There was already someone working inside: a burly man with reddish hair gradually going to white. His shirt’s sleeves were rolled up past the elbow, and he wore a thick leather apron and gloves to protect him from the heat. Currently, he was bent over a grindstone, bending all of his concentration to sharpening a blade. Severa watched in mute fascination as sparks flew from the spinning stone, carefully working the blade to a razor’s edge as the man’s foot carefully pumped the pedal.

Frederick cleared his throat, making sure that he could be heard over the sounds of the forge. “Good afternoon, Gregor.” He reached up to one of the hooks next to the door, pulling down a forge apron of his own.

The older man looked up, an easy smile coming to his face. “To you as well, good friend and cute children.” He carefully set down the sword, holding out his arms, and Severa rushed forward for a hug.

“Hey, Gramps!” Out of all of the Shepherds, the former sellsword was one of her favorites. He always seemed ready with a joke and a smile, and he took her teasing about his “funny voice” in his stride.

Gregor held Severa out at arm’s length, narrowing his eyes exaggeratedly. “Oy, why are you calling Gregor such things? He is not so old!”

Severa giggled. “Yes you are! Old like a grandpa!”

“Ah, good grieving… Gregor is not old like grandpa, he is young and strong like ox!” He lifted Severa into the air above his head as if to prove the point, and the little girl squealed with delight. She first reached up to tap one of the low-hanging beams of the ceiling with one small palm, then moved her hand back down to ruffle Gregor’s hair.

“But you have all of that white in your hair!” she said.

Gregor scoffed. “Is very snowy season. Many snow-pieces stick to Gregor’s head.” He carefully lowered Severa back to the ground and looked over at Frederick, who had finished tying on the forge apron. “So, what is it bringing you to here on cold day? You want to feel warmth of fires?”

Frederick pulled on thick leather gloves of his own. “Actually, tomorrow is Severa’s birthday, so we’re going to make her first sword.”

“Ah, a first weapon! Is good birthday present.” He furrowed his brow. “But Gregor was thinking daughter of yours would use lance, not sword.”

Severa’s father shrugged. “There will be plenty of time for her to learn the lance, if she so chooses. In the meantime, however, she can train as she likes.” He moved towards the back corner, where ingots of unshaped iron and steel were neatly stacked.

“Ah, I see,” said the mercenary, his craggy face breaking into a wide grin. “You want to use sword to be more like Gregor, eh?”

Severa stuck out her tongue. “No, silly, I want to be like Lucy!” She pointed over at the princess, who had been standing quietly near the door since they walked in.

Lucina blinked in surprise. “Like me?”

“Yeah! I want to be able to fight like you do, so that we can train together… even if my sword won’t be as cool as the Falchion!”

Gregor nodded in mock sorrow. “Alas, is sad but true. Gregor not have any dragon fangs lying around—and tiny wife have none to spare!” He let out a bellow of laughter at his own joke. Even Lucina managed a grin at that. Nowi might have been older than anyone in Ylisstol, but she was always enthusiastic about playing—both with her own daughter, Nah, and with the other children.

Frederick emerged from behind Gregor, several ingots in his hands. “Steel and iron will have to do, then. Gregor, would you like to help supervise?”

“Would be glad indeed,” said Gregor. “Come, small children, Gregor show you how it is done.”

Severa watched in fascination as Gregor showed her and Lucina how to work the bellows. “Is very important to have right kind of hot,” he explained. “Sword must be hard, but also soft, yes?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Severa, puzzled.

Gregor tapped his forehead with one callused finger. “Ah, but think: if sword is too soft, will bend when hit. But if sword is too hard, will break like glass.” He pointed over to Frederick, who was manipulating the hammer and tongs to carefully layer the iron and steel. “So soft metal and hard metal—both important.”

Lucina nodded thoughtfully. “I think I understand.”

Frederick hammered away at the metal, hammering the blade and the tang into shape, and carefully directing the heat from the bellows in order to keep the right temperature. Severa wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it seemed to go by in the blink of an eye to her, so absorbed was she in watching and doing her best to help. She and Lucina switched off on the bellows, carefully blowing more air into the forge at the direction of the two older men, until at last the blade was shaped.

“Here, Severa, stand out of the way,” her father warned, picking up the blade with his tongs. The girl jumped out of the way with alacrity as her father stepped past to the quenching trough and smoothly slid the sword into the water. There was a hiss and a puff of steam as the red-hot blade struck the water. After a moment, Frederick pulled it from the water, shaking off errant droplets. He nodded to Gregor. “The oven?”

“Right,” said Gregor. He waved a hand at Lucina. “Can stop with the air, now. Forge is done.”

Lucina wiped sweat from her brow and smiled. “Thanks for letting me help.”

Frederick inclined his head. “Your help was appreciated, milady.”

“So what comes now, daddy?” said Severa, barely restraining herself from running forward.

“Now that the blade is shaped, it must be tempered,” said Frederick, carefully carrying the sword over to the oven against the far wall.

“Temper? Like… an angry person?” Severa wrinkled her nose in confusion.

Her father chuckled. “Not really. It’s sort of like… baking it, I guess. You know how a loaf of bread needs time to rise? It’s kind of like that. You wouldn’t eat bread dough by itself, after all. Once a sword has been tempered, it’s ready to be finished.” He slid the blade into the oven, adjusting its position slightly with the tongs, and carefully closed the door after it.

“But a sword isn’t a loaf of bread,” scoffed Severa, with all the superiority of her almost nine years.

“Indeed it is not,” said Frederick, matching her serious tone. “Swords are not edible.”

“Gregor know this!” called the sellsword, hanging up his apron. “He tried it once, and almost broke his teeth.” He let out another guffaw.

“Speaking of eating…” Frederick knelt down next to his daughter, prodding at her stomach playfully. “It’s pretty late, isn’t it? We should get you some dinner.”

Severa’s stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, and she blushed. “Yeah, I guess.” A thought occurred to her, and she continued on. “Lucy can come eat with us! You’d like that, right?”

The princess started at the mention of her name. “If it’s not too much trouble for you, Sir Frederick…”

“Nothing would please me more than to host you, milady,” said Frederick, pulling off his forge gloves. He hung his apron on the hook beside Gregor’s and held out a hand for Severa to take. “Shall we be off, then?”

Severa took her father’s hand with her right and Lucina’s with her left, pulling both of them after her into the wintry evening. As she skipped between the two of them, her heart was light: tomorrow was her birthday, her father was making her first sword, and she was hand in hand with her best friend in all the world. Despite the cold and the wind, she was flushed with warmth.  _Today was perfect._

\---

It was the height of summer, and the Shepherds that had marched to Plegia had been gone for far too long.

Her father had led them, setting forth with his wife at his side—as he had promised her that he would on that night almost three years ago. They had left promising to return within a matter of weeks, with the Fire Emblem and the Gemstones in their hands. But more than a month had passed since then, and still, no word came.

Severa and Lucina were training at their usual time, under the watchful eye of Sir Stahl. He and his wife Panne were the only two among the Shepherds who had stayed behind to guard Exalt Lissa—her husband, West-Khan Lon’qu, had been fighting a losing battle in Ferox for almost three years already, and the Shepherds had assured him that they would keep her safe. Frederick had assigned Stahl as captain of Lissa’s personal guard: partially because of his own abilities as a knight, but also because his wife and their young son were the last of their kind. Were they to die, the entire race of taguel would perish with them.

There was the sound of horn-calls from the direction of the gate, and the messy-haired knight looked up, instantly alert. The girls stopped in the middle of their drill. “Sir Stahl?” said Lucina. “Is that—”

“The signal,” said Stahl, voice tight with anticipation. “The group that went to Plegia… they’re back.”

_Daddy!_ Severa hurried to put her sword back on the rack. “Can we go and see them?”

The green-clad knight nodded. “Of course.” He was already on his way towards the gate, his long strides quickly out-pacing the two children. He didn’t seem to notice that he was leaving them behind until Severa called for him to wait up: a sign of how distracted and anxious he was.

They reached the gate to find a crowd already gathered. The citizens quickly moved aside when they saw Stahl approaching with two children behind him. Lucina took Severa’s hand, making sure that the two girls wouldn’t be separated as they made their way through the crowds towards the gate. Panne was already present, with the children of the other Shepherds clustered around her, all looking out towards the returning soldiers. Even before she reached the front, however, Severa knew something was wrong. It was quiet: just as quiet as it had been three years ago.

The men and women who entered the gate were a far cry from the proud soldiers who had set out from Ylisstol to retrieve the Fire Emblem. Their mounts were exhausted, their clothes filthy with mud and dried blood. There were more than a few empty saddles: less than half of the soldiers who had set out for Plegia had returned. She looked frantically around, trying to find her parents, but could not spot either of them. Lucina, sensing her friend’s fear, squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Severa, they’re probably with the rearguard.”

It was a hollow reassurance, but Severa held onto it as tightly as she held Lucina’s hand. The Shepherds had begun to disperse, each going to their families, and she let her eyes scan the crowd, taking them in.

Tall, strapping Ricken, limping from a wound to the leg, bent down to hug Brady. He held his son as the boy cried into his broad chest, shoulders shaking. Though Ricken held steady, silent tears streamed from his eyes, leaving trails in the dust on his face.

Tharja, her head wrapped in a blood-stained bandage, her expression murderous, had precious little comfort to give her daughter. Of her husband, Henry, there was no sign.

Laurent, the oldest of the children apart from Lucina, stood rigidly straight. In his hands, he held his mother’s battered hat. Gerome stood behind him, a hand on the young mage’s shoulder in silent support: he knew what it was to feel loss. Two years ago, when the Risen had overrun the duchy of Rosanne, only his mother's wyvern had returned home.

She didn’t see Nah anywhere. Neither Gregor nor Nowi had returned. Perhaps the young manakete had left already, wanting to mourn her loss in private.

Inigo, Cynthia, and Kjelle all stayed near their parents, hugging them tightly enough to convince Severa that they would never let go.

And still, she stood hand in hand with Lucina, looking desperately for her parents.

At last, she spotted her mother, her red hair disheveled and her armor dented. She walked alongside her pegasus rather than riding it, leaning on her lance as if it were a crutch. Severa dropped Lucina’s hand and ran forward to hug her mother around the waist. “Mommy!” she wailed.

Cordelia wrapped her free arm around her daughter’s shoulders, swaying slightly on her feet. “Sevvy…”

“Mommy, I knew you’d be okay!” She looked up into her mother’s face, her voice turning anxious. “Where’s daddy? He was with you, right?”

“Daddy is…” began Cordelia. Her eyes were rimmed with red, sunken and bloodshot. “He…”

Severa’s voice rose in pitch. “He’s all right, isn’t he? He has to be!”

“Darling, your daddy… he…” Cordelia closed her eyes tightly. “He’s not coming back.”

It was as if her heart had plummeted out of her chest. “No…”

“Darling—”

“NO! You’re lying, I don’t believe you, you’re  _lying_ —”

“Sevvy—”

Severa shoved her way out of her mother’s arms, screaming. “He promised he would come back, daddy  _promised_ , he wouldn’t lie to me, not about this—”

She knew that people were staring at her. She didn’t care. All that mattered was that her daddy wasn’t coming home.

She felt Lucina’s arms around her, the older girl pulling her into a comforting hug, and she cried helplessly into Lucina’s shoulder until the princess’s raiment was sodden with her tears.

She was nine years old, and there was an empty space at Lucina’s side where her father had once stood.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another flashback chapter. Regularly scheduled plot will resume next time I update.
> 
> I actually did some reading up on how swords were made before writing the first half of this chapter, in the hope of not screwing it up too badly. So, if I failed utterly at not screwing it up (i.e. if I screwed it up ~~and I should use words better when writing summaries~~ ), [my](http://www.thearma.org/essays/How_Were_Swords_Made.htm#.VkaONnarSUl) [sources](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tempering_\(metallurgy\)#Quenched-steel) are partially to blame.
> 
> Other than that, the next chapter may take longer than usual, since I aim to cover most (if not all) of the Harvest Festival in one fell swoop. Look forward to it, and if you have any comments, feel free to toss them in my general direction!


	13. Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate the harvest, the reconstruction, and the return of the Twelve Heroes to Ylisstol, the capital goes all-out in planning the greatest festival yet.

The Harvest Festival began on a crisp October morning with clear, blue skies. The gates of Ylisstol were flung open wide to welcome people from far and wide, and the streets and squares were already crowded and noisy.

Severa, Cynthia, and Noire made their way down from the palace with Noire’s cart of merchandise. Noire, seated on the carriage’s seat, kept both hands on the cart-horse’s reins, but she held them almost casually rather than in the death grip that Severa would have expected. _She’s certainly mellowed a bit since the end of the war… but I suppose that we all have, at that._ Severa glanced over at Cynthia, walking next to her. The younger woman was making a point to step on all of the crunchy-looking leaves lying on the street, smiling at the sound they made. _Okay, so maybe Cynthia hasn’t._

“I can’t believe that we’re going to an _actual_ festival!” said Cynthia gleefully.

“As opposed to what, a _fake_ festival? Do those even exist?”

Cynthia spun around. “Well, if they do, I haven’t heard of them,” she replied. She had put aside her usual uniform in favor of a dress and shawl similar to the kind worn by the village maidens, and seemed to enjoy the way that her twirling made the fabric bell out in the breeze. _If the dress stuck in that position, she’d look like a jellyfish,_ Severa thought in amusement.

“I hope you don’t trip and ruin your dress,” said Noire. “That would be too bad—especially with the festival just starting.”

“Now what makes you think I would—whoops!” Cynthia managed to get her feet tangled up, and only the fact that Severa had already grabbed onto her arm kept her from falling face-first into the street.

“That. That makes us think you would,” said Severa tartly. “Now then, do you think you could possibly try to concentrate a bit more?”

“Sorry, Sevvy,” said Cynthia sheepishly. “I’m just so excited, I can’t help it!” She stopped up short, sniffing at the air. “Mmmm, you can already smell the food cooking. I hope they’ve got good sweetbread!”

“Just don’t make a mess of yourself,” said Severa reprovingly. “We need to look good, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Cynthia gave Severa an up-and-down look. “Why aren’t you wearing a dress, though? It’s not like you need to be training today.”

“I guess…” Severa shrugged. “I don’t know, really. I didn’t really think about it at all.” It was true, Severa hadn’t put much thought into her own appearance that morning, throwing on the same quilted tunic and breeches that she would wear for everyday work. Once, she would have spent hours getting ready; making sure that not a single hair was out of place and that her clothing was perfectly coordinated, even when she had more important things to worry about. She supposed that had stemmed from imitating her mother, who had always seemed perfect even when she wasn’t.

Over the last few months, however, she’d gradually let that habit fall to the wayside. It didn’t seem as important anymore—not when she had the responsibility of training the new recruits and guarding the Exalt. _I suppose it also helps that Lucina isn’t really the kind of person who’s particularly distracted by appearances._

“Well, either way,” said Cynthia, “needing to look good goes for you, too. So you’re going to let me pick out something nice for you to wear tomorrow.”

Severa, rolling her eyes, caved in. “Oh, fine.”

“Yay, I get to play dress-up with Sevvy!” said Cynthia, skipping ahead a few more steps. As she often did when she was pleased with herself, she hummed a little fanfare aloud.

“So, where is your stand going to be?” said Severa, looking up at Noire. “You mentioned that you reserved a spot, but I don’t think you ever got around to telling me exactly where it was going to be.”

“O-oh, yes,” Noire stammered, blushing. “I suppose I forgot about that… sorry…”

 _Apologizing is like a reflex for her,_ Severa thought. “Don’t worry about it, Noire. Just point me in the right direction.”

“Okay… It’s down in the main square, near the gate.”

Cynthia whistled. “Wow, that’s a great spot! How’d you manage to get it?”

“I… I had help,” said Noire, smiling.

The streets became more and more crowded as they approached the market, and their progress slowed to a crawl. After going five minutes without moving more than a few feet at a time, Noire’s patience was beginning to fray. Severa watched her nervously, wanting to help her somehow but not sure how exactly to do it. She jostled her way through the crowd to move next to Noire. “Are you all right?”

“Just a little stressed,” said Noire, her voice strained enough to let Severa know she was much more than a _little_ stressed.

“Um, is there anything I can do?”

“I think that I just need to vent,” said Noire. “But I can’t exactly get off the cart right… now…”

“I could watch the cart for you, if you need to find somewhere to shout.” _Although… maybe an outburst would be able to get us moving again…_

“Thanks, but—” Noire was interrupted by an alarmed whinny from the cart-horse, as a weedy farmer—little older than they were, from the looks of it—squeezed his way up to them, frowning.

“Move yer cart, yer blockin’ the road!”

“Now see here, you! We can’t move if people like you keep cutting us off!” said Severa, matching him glare for glare.

The farmer drew himself up, shaking a finger. “Well, ‘now see here’ yerself, girlie! Everyone here’s got places ta be, and I ain’t gonna—”

The only warning that she had was Noire throwing the reins down in front of her and leaping upright, to stand on the seat of the carriage. She took a deep breath and let it out in a shout of rage. “ _QUIVERING POLTROONS!_ Vacate my path at once, or suffer the consequences!” She gestured grandly with one hand. “How can I seek to bring _happiness_ to the masses when I am _prohibited_ from moving any _FURTHER_ ? Stand aside and _LET ME PASS!_ ”

Complete silence had fallen, save for the sound of Noire’s heavy breathing, and everyone in the street was staring at them. Severa winced. _Okay, that might have been overdoing it._

The weedy farmer looked the most shocked of all, but there was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. “Wait, are ya… yer from the Shepherds, ain’tcha?”

Noire folded up like a wilting flower and slowly curled up on the seat. “…y-y-yes. Sorry about that…”

The man’s entire demeanor had changed. “Well, ain’t I a fool.” He swept off his straw hat. “Th’ name’s Mathwin, but most calls me Mattie. My uncle Donny used ta tell all kinds of tales about the Shepherds. Gosh, y’all are heroes, ain’tcha?”

Severa and Noire exchanged puzzled looks. Cynthia, on the other hand, jumped forward with a grin. “That’s right—that’s us, the big heroes!”

“Well, I reckon ya could’ve gotten through if ya’d just said so,” said Mattie, grinning. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Oy, Shepherds comin’ through! Move yer lazy bums!” The crowd, despite some grumbling, parted as best they could, creating a lane for Noire’s cart to move. Mattie gave them a slight bow. “Enjoy the festival, ladies.” With a jaunty wave of his hat and a crooked grin, he headed off in the opposite direction.

Noire was still curled up in embarrassment, so it was Severa who took the reins, clucking to the horse to move forward. As they moved on, she looked over at Noire. “See, everything worked out fine.”

Noire’s reply was muffled by the way she had shoved her face against her knees, but Severa heard enough to figure out that one of the things she’d said was “ _don’t like it_.”

Severa put a hand on Noire’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “Hey, don’t worry about it—you’re getting better.”

“You really think so?” said Noire tremulously.

“Of course I do.” She leaned down next to Noire to whisper mischievously in her ear. “If you were really as scary as all that, Yarne would run away from you the moment that you came into sight.”

 _That_ certainly cheered Noire up. “Hee hee… thanks, Severa.”

Severa straightened back up, a smile on her lips. “No problem.”

With Cynthia leading the way, loudly proclaiming to all who would listen that there were heroes coming through, they made good time to the market square. Severa, looking ahead, could see an empty stand with a makeshift awning overhead. Beneath its shade, an impatient-looking Kjelle stood, flanked by two men and a woman, all of them looking to be around the same age as she was. Severa didn’t know any of them, but she assumed they were new members of the Shepherds. As soon as Kjelle spotted the cart coming, she waved to them, calling out.

“Noire! We were wondering what was taking so long.”

“Sorry, sorry… it’s really crowded here.” Noire waved to the others, clearly recognizing them. “Thanks for coming out to help.”

“Going to introduce us, Noire?” said Cynthia.

“They already know who you are…” said Noire, puzzled.

“Yes, but _we_ don’t know _them_ ,” said Severa. Noire blushed.

“O-oh, right…”

“Introduce yourselves, soldiers,” Kjelle barked, coming to Noire’s rescue. The trio snapped to attention immediately—it was clear that they when Kjelle told them to jump, their first impulse was to ask how high.

“Ivan: field medic extraordinaire, acceptable swordsman, and… er, a locksmith of sorts,” said the first, a short young man with startlingly pink hair and traces of baby fat still on his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Susanna,” said the girl, bobbing her head so that her pale blue ringlets bounced up and down. “One of the Shepherds’ new mages.”

The second man, a massive broad-chested Feroxi with a deep voice, was less talkative, responding with nothing but his name. “Malcolm.”

“Malcolm’s axe is probably more talkative than he is,” said Ivan, still grinning. “Getting him to open up about anything is about as hard as it gets. Why, I remember one time—”

“I told you to introduce yourselves, not give your life’s story,” said Kjelle.

Ivan’s grin vanished, and he swallowed nervously. “Y-yes, ma’am!”

“Now then, that cart won’t unload itself. Hop to it!”

As the three new Shepherds began helping Cynthia and Noire pull boxes off of the cart and set up her market stand, Severa muttered under her breath to Kjelle. “Did you bring them along to do your chores for you?”

Kjelle raised her eyebrows. “What, you don’t have your trainees do your chores? How interesting.”

“Come to think of it, maybe I should…” Severa mused.

The knight smirked. “I’m shocked you didn’t come up with the idea on your own. You’re lazy enough, Sev.”

“Hmph.” Severa stuck out her tongue. “Did you even learn to do your own laundry, or do you still leave that up to the underlings?”

“Well,” said Kjelle, “as you said yourself, _I_ am indispensable when it comes to washing laundry.” She patted her stomach significantly, smirking.

“ _One time_ I said that, and you’ll never let me live it down,” Severa retorted, blushing furiously.

“That would be remiss of me.”

Severa rolled her eyes. “And now you know why I didn’t decide to rejoin the Shepherds. I couldn’t stand being around _you_ anymore.”

Kjelle let out a loud laugh, slapping Severa on the shoulder. “I _know_ you’ve missed me.”

Severa gave Kjelle a playful shove, smiling in return. “Jerk.”

\---

After helping Noire set out her wares, and giving her a stern admonishment not to let anyone haggle her down too far, Severa headed out on her own. She browsed between the stands, occasionally lifting up the odd bauble that caught her eye. There were goods from all over: fine tableware from Rosanne, tea sets from Chon’sin, books printed in Valm, furs from Ferox, and jewelry from Plegia. She marveled at the variety: despite the number of foreign refugees who had flocked to Ylisse as the Risen advanced, Severa had never seen the like of these. Those fleeing a war had little use for such luxuries.

Eventually, she found herself in front of a stand of tiny, sculpted flowers, each a piece of unique jewelry. She considered a pair of earrings, crafted in the shape of blooming daffodils. _Hmm… they’re pretty, but they’re hardly practical._ She almost laughed at herself. _A few months ago, I would have been ready to buy all of this the moment I saw it. Things like this were in preciously limited supply, back then._

 _Then again, maybe that was the reason I wanted those things so much._ Severa picked up another piece: this one was a pendant, the chain connecting at the top of the bloom. Lifting it into the light, she admired the way that the sun sparkled off of each of the petals. _This is the best one I’ve seen so far._

The accented voice of the dark-haired woman running the stand broke through her reverie. “Do you like that one, miss?”

“It’s very pretty,” said Severa. “What kind of flower is that? It looks kind of like a rose, but… different.”

“You have a good eye,” said the woman, smiling. “The flower is called _tsubaki._ They are native to Chon’sin.”

“ _Tsubaki,_ huh.” She liked the way that it sounded. “Does it mean something?”

“In my homeland, _tsubaki_ means many things.” The woman held up three fingers. “There are three colors in our gardens. White _tsubaki_ means waiting. Yellow means longing. And red means love.” Her eyes twinkled. “Why do you ask?”

A blush rose in Severa’s cheeks. “Um, no particular reason.” She reached down to her belt for her money pouch. “How much?”

A few moments later, her purse five gold lighter but with the _tsubaki_ pendant tucked inside, Severa headed off down the street. She whistled to herself as she went; a song from Chon’sin about the beauty of flowers.

She passed the rest of the morning browsing among the stands, enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of the festival. When her stomach began rumbling, she had merely to sniff the air to find out which direction food was in. After some consideration, she settled on Plegian cuisine: savory seasoned lamb meat, wrapped in flat bread. She ate as she walked, exchanging nods of acknowledgment with those townsfolk who recognized her as one of the Exalt’s companions. Fortunately, none of them tried to engage her in conversation. _Probably because my mouth is full. There’s an advantage to carrying food around._

Severa had just finished eating and was turning about to make her way back to Noire’s stand when she felt someone jostling against her side. “Hey, watch it!” she said, her voice irritated. The figure—a girl with a hood pulled up over her face—did not even turn to acknowledge her. Instead, she continued moving forward, picking up her pace. A sudden suspicion struck Severa, and she reached down to her side to find her purse-strings dangling limply, cut cleanly away. “You little rat!” she shouted. “Come back here!”

The girl broke into a run, and Severa followed as best she could, weaving in and out of the crowd. Her quarry was much less careful, shoving aside or bowling over those in her path, and leaving a string of cursing, confused townsfolk behind them.

Severa was gaining on the cutpurse now, her superior speed and endurance both coming into play. _I’m glad that I didn’t wear a dress today… it would be a lot harder to run._ The hooded figure cast a wild look back over her shoulder and cut to the right.

She’d picked the wrong direction: the pickpocket ran directly into the broad, muscular chest of a familiar-looking man, and the purse dropped from her hand to the ground. Clearly intimidated, the girl scuttled backwards, slipping back into the crowd. Severa would have followed, if only to give the thief a piece of her mind, but regaining her purse took priority.

Before she could bend down to grab it, a pink-haired young man had already snatched it up and was holding it out to her, grinning cheekily. “Lucky for you we were here to save the day,” said Ivan.

“Thank you. And what do you mean, lucky?”

“We Shepherds are supposed to make sure that order is maintained at the festival. Commander Kjelle’s orders. The big guy is obviously a bit better at it than I am.” He nudged Malcolm, who made no reaction.

“Well, thank you, too, Malcolm,” said Severa.

“You’re welcome,” the giant rumbled.

“Don’t worry, we’ll see if we can track that girl down,” said Ivan, saluting. “Can’t have a pickpocket ruining people’s days. And as the saying goes, _take a thief_ …” He chuckled at his own joke.

Severa was walking away when Ivan suddenly called out. “Hold on, I think you dropped something else.” He held out a hand, something glinting in it. “Did this fall out of your purse?”

It was the _tsubaki_ pendant. Severa exhaled in relief. “Yes, that’s mine. I just bought it, actually.”

Ivan’s eyes glinted. “Did you get it for that _special someone_ , perhaps? I alway do like a good—oof!”

Malcolm had cuffed him lightly across the back of the head. “Be polite.”

“Okay, okay…” Ivan hurriedly handed the pendant off to Severa. “Back to work it is, then. Try to keep an eye out for pickpockets in the future.”

“I’ll be sure to,” said Severa, her voice dry.

\---

She was approaching Noire’s stand when she noticed someone watching it from across the street: a figure shrouded in a hooded cloak, seated on a shaded bench. Everything about the person’s posture positively screamed “furtive.” _Well, if that’s not someone trying and failing to go unnoticed, I don’t know what it is._ She smirked. _I bet I can guess exactly who it is._

With exaggerated nonchalance, she made her way over to the bench. The figure didn’t react to her approach: in fact, they didn’t seem to notice her at all, since all their focus was directed towards Noire’s stall. It was only when Severa seated herself next to them and loudly cleared her throat that she was able to get any reaction.

“Eek!”

“And hello to you too, Yarne.”

The taguel had nearly fallen off of the bench in surprise, and he gave her what she assumed was supposed to be a deathly glare. Coming from him, it was more like a pout. “Yeesh, you scared me out of a few years of life.”

“Well, I can’t just let strange men watch my friend from across the street,” said Severa, grinning.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” said Yarne. He sighed. “I guess I do look a bit… creepy, don’t I?”

Severa winked. “Only a little.”

Yarne sat quietly for a long while. He took several deep breaths, as if steeling himself for something, but seemed to chicken out each time and exhaled gustily, shaking his head. At around the fifth repetition, Severa raised her eyebrows. “So…?”

“Um, me and Noire—” Yarne blurted, before catching himself and shaking his head. His dark cheeks lit up in a blush.

Severa took pity on him and smiled. “Yes, I know, she told me.”

The taguel giggled, relieved. “Oh. Uh, good. That saves me the trouble.”

“You know, Yarne, I’m actually impressed.”

Yarne met her eyes, puzzled. “Um, impressed? With _me_? That’s something new.”

“Well, don’t get used to it,” said Severa, winking again.

“Um… why?”

“Noire told me why you were so keen on keeping what’s between you a secret. That was remarkably unselfish of you. Maybe even—dare I say it—brave?”

Yarne’s hand went beneath his hood, tugging nervously on one of his ears. “You really think so?”

“Hey, you know me. I say exactly what I think.” _…most of the time._

“Um… thanks, Severa.”

“At any rate, I think it’s high time that you stopped staring at Noire like a frightened rabbit and actually went to talk to her,” said Severa.

“Uh, do you—whoa, easy, easy!” Severa had grabbed Yarne by the hood and yanked him to his feet.

“Come on, bunny-boy, I’ll walk you over there if you’re scared.” She slung an arm around his shoulder, holding him back from any further attempts to escape.

“But she’s trying to work—”

“She could use a break.”

“But—”

“No more buts!” Severa, ignoring further protests, steered Yarne across the street. Noire, who was counting money, perked up at their approach.

“Severa! I didn’t think I’d see you back here until—” She noticed Yarne and blushed, stopping abruptly. Yarne, equally embarrassed, said nothing either.

“I brought you company,” said Severa, grinning wickedly. “Have you eaten lunch yet?”

“Um, I haven’t, but—”

“Well, then, you should probably take a break,” said Severa. “I can cover your stand while you wait, so don’t worry about it.”

Noire smiled. “Oh… thanks, Severa.” She turned around, calling to the back. “Susanna?”

The young mage’s blue-haired head popped around the corner of the stand. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to get some lunch. Severa’s in charge while I’m gone, okay?”

Susanna nodded. “Sure thing! Do you want me to walk her through the inventory?”

“Your choice. I won’t be gone long.” Noire, still blushing, edged her way out of her stand and moved over to stand next to Yarne. “Well, shall we go?”

“Y-yeah,” the taguel stammered. “Um, but let’s find somewhere that isn’t so… open.”

Noire giggled. “Don’t worry, I’m good at finding quiet spots.” Linking arms with Yarne, she headed down the street.

Susanna hopped out into the open as soon as the pair were gone. “So was that Noire’s boyfriend?”

“Is that any of your business?” said Severa. Susanna shrugged.

“I mean, she’s mentioned that he exists, but I’ve never met him before.” Susanna sighed dreamily. “A dark, mysterious stranger… it’s so romantic.”

Severa had to hold back a bark of laughter at hearing Yarne called “dark and mysterious.” _If only she knew. That might apply to Gerome, but never Yarne._ She cleared her throat. “You mentioned something about showing me the inventory?”

“Oh, right. If you’re going to be running the front of the stand, then you should know what’s what.” Susanna crouched down under the makeshift counter, pulling out a rolled-up sheet of parchment. “Noire marks all of the different charms with different runes, so that she can tell them apart. Happiness, warmth, painlessness, and so on. There’s a sign on the front of the stand so that the customers can tell, too, but this is your cheat sheet. It lists the prices, too.”

Severa looked over the sheet, noting how each of the symbols looked and comparing them to the charms: carefully etched or inked on to the surface. “All right, thanks.”

“Just make sure you let me know whenever you sell something, and how much you sell it for,” said Susanna. “Laurent has very high standards of record-keeping, and it’s important to keep track of what’s no longer in inventory so that we can work to replace it.”

“Wait, Laurent is helping run this stand?”

“Noire _does_ put a portion of her earnings towards the Shepherds’ overall budget, after all,” said Susanna. “Thus, ensuring her success and keeping careful records is in our best interest.” The phrasing sounded enough like Laurent that Severa almost expected Susanna to adjust an invisible pair of glasses.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Severa.

“Um, excuse me?” The voice that interrupted their conversation was a familiar one, and Severa turned around to see Lily standing there. The pegasus knight, obviously not expecting to see Severa, immediately jumped to attention. “S-s-s-sub-commander! I didn’t expect to see—”

“Take it easy, neither of us is on duty,” said Severa. She glanced around, expecting to see one of the other recruits as well, but Lily was alone. “I take it you’re looking for something?”

Lily shifted from foot to foot. “Yes, I am. You still have charms against nightmares, right?”

Severa consulted the parchment a moment, then scanned the merchandise until she could point them out. “Those bracelets, there.”

Lily lifted up one of them, weighing it in her palm. “How much?”

“Let me see…” Severa consulted the parchment once again, looking for the starting price. “Twenty gold.”

The Feroxi knight pulled out her purse without hesitation. _She’s not even going to haggle at all?_ Severa covered up her surprise at that with a sardonic “So, buying something for that _special someone_?”

To her utter astonishment, Lily blushed. “It’s… for Teresa.” She continued on hurriedly. “Um, that is, we’re not actually… uh, the two of us aren’t—but I was hoping, maybe, that if she felt the same way, that I could…” She trailed off, hurriedly setting down her money, and snapped off a salute. “Um, I have to go. Excuse me!” And with that, she disappeared.

 _I guess she really is serious about this. I wonder what Teresa’s reaction will be…_ She shook her head. Another customer was approaching, and so she banished thoughts of her subordinates’ love lives from her head.

\---

It was almost three hours before Noire showed up again, apologizing profusely for losing track of the time. Severa patiently weathered the storm of her friend’s contrition, secretly glad that Noire had managed to make some time for herself. After Noire had said sorry at least twenty times, Severa managed to reassure her and head out into the fair once again.

As the daylight began to wane, Severa turned her steps back towards the castle. She’d left Paula and Renee behind as Lucina’s escorts, but it wouldn’t be fair to keep them there all night, especially when a lot of the festival’s fun happened after sundown. Besides, she was tired from the amount of walking that she’d done, and was looking forward to a hot bath and curling up with her book afterward.

She was passing by a tavern when she heard a roar of noise from inside. Curious, she backtracked, stepping inside to find out what was going on.

As she crossed the threshold, there was another thunderous cheer, punctuated by a loud thud. She edged her way through the crowded room towards the source of the noise to find Kjelle, her sleeves rolled up, grinning broadly and flexing her muscles. Opposite her, a burly man was ruefully rubbing at his sore arm. Money was changing hands throughout the crowd: obviously, there had been more than a few bets on the outcome.

Kjelle spotted Severa and waved her over, her speech slightly slurred. “Hey, Sev, come over here and have a drink on me! I’ve got plenty to spare.” She gestured to the coins on the table in front of her—right next to a line of empty mugs. _She’s certainly been busy._

Severa slid into an empty chair, and an expectant serving-man sidled up behind her, clearing his throat. “Your order, ma’am?”

“Just a hot cider, please,” said Severa. She turned back to Kjelle. “Arm-wrestling for money. Why am I not surprised?”

Her friend grinned wolfishly. “Hey, I have to find _some_ way to earn my drinks. _Surprisingly_ , Laurent isn’t too generous about budgeting for entertainment.”

“Typical of him,” said Severa. “Although I’m sure that you could get plenty of free drinks just by leveraging the Shepherds’ reputation.”

“He frowns on that sort of thing, too,” said Kjelle, an exaggerated grimace accenting her words. “Says that our _reputation_ will wear out if we take advantage of it.”

“I suppose he has a point.” Severa nodded in thanks as the server set down her cider. “I haven’t seen him around yet.”

“That’s because he won’t be in town until… tomorrow, at least,” said Kjelle. “Owain won’t be, either. They’ve been working on—” She stopped, blinking owlishly. “Well, I really shouldn’t give it away.”

“Oh, gods,” groaned Severa. “That doesn’t sound ominous at _all_.”

“I think you might be pleasantly surprised,” said Kjelle, chuckling a little more than was necessary.

Severa took a sip of her cider, burning her tongue slightly. She hurriedly blew on it to cool it off and sipped again, this time savoring the way that the various spices mixed with the flavor. “Well, I guess I’ll find out when I find out.”

“That you will,” said Kjelle. She began rolling her sleeves back down. “I heard that you had a little run-in with a pickpocket earlier today?”

“How did you—oh, right, your Shepherds probably reported it,” said Severa.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

Severa scoffed. “I would have been fine on my own. Another couple of seconds and I’d have caught the little jerk myself.”

“And you nearly lost the necklace you bought. Who was that for, by the way?”

“I bought it for _me_ ,” said Severa, blushing. “Who would I even give jewelry to, anyway?” She buried her nose in her mug, taking a long drink. _Gods, she’s nosy when she’s tipsy…_

Kjelle shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose.”

Neither said anything for the next few minutes: Severa was busy drinking her cider, and Kjelle seemed to have found something very interesting in the wood-grained surface of the table. As Severa set down her empty mug, Kjelle finally broke the silence.

“Hey, Sev?”

“What is it?”

“Do you ever… I don’t know, do you still think about what happened during those last few months of the war?”

“Sometimes.”

For once, Kjelle’s confidence seemed to be shaken. “I can’t stop thinking about what happened. About what _would have_ happened if our parents hadn’t shown up, or if they had been even a little slower. We would have died, failed our mission, failed Lucina, and—”

“You shouldn’t dwell on it,” said Severa. _Gods. She must have had more to drink than I thought. Kjelle_ never _shows weakness… not like this._

“I can’t help it.” Kjelle held up her hand, palm up, every callus and scar on full display. “I’ve spent my whole life training to be a warrior. Everything I’ve done has been to make myself a better fighter, to… _sharpen_ myself, like a weapon.” She clenched her fist and slammed it on the table. “But now that we’re at peace, I’m reduced to gambling and drinking, and running a damned police force. Chasing down pickpockets, breaking up tavern fights… I’m not cut out for this.” She propped up her cheek on one hand. “I feel like a bloody suit of armor on display: good for nothing but polishing and looking at.” The knight snorted. “And I don’t polish up that well.”

 _What the hell is she talking about?_ “Um, Kjelle…”

“I just…” Kjelle shook her head. “The only times I really felt alive were when I was fighting. When there was a risk that I might die. The feeling of my heart racing, and a weapon in my hands, was evidence that I existed. But this peace… it hardly feels real at all. I keep thinking that, any moment, the dragon is going to rear up and everything is going to begin again. And if it does, I won’t be ready for it.” Her words came more quickly now, almost in a torrent, as if she was spilling out everything that she had kept bottled up inside. “In the end, all of my effort wasn’t enough. I had to rely on the _dead_ to fight for me. After everything I did, I was still a failure, and now I’m barely of any use to anyone. Sometimes I wonder if there’s even a point—”

 _All right, I’ve heard enough._ Severa picked up her mug again and slammed it down on the table with a loud _crack_ , making Kjelle start in surprise. “For the gods’ sakes, Kjelle, snap out of it. You’re better than this!”

“I—what?”

“We killed a _dragon_ together, Kjelle, a gods-damned _dragon_ . So what if we had help? Nobody ever accomplished anything like that alone!” She glared at her friend. “You’ve accomplished incredible things. All of us have. But we didn’t do it alone. We had our parents’ training, we had each other, we even had a damn _miracle_ . But that doesn’t devalue what we’ve done _one single bit._ We gave everything that we were so that we could succeed.”

“Well, when you say it like that…”

“You and the Shepherds are doing good work. You’re clearing out the Risen, helping make the country safe again. Just because you’re having an easy time of it doesn’t mean you’re not making a difference.”

There was another long, awkward pause, during which Kjelle simply stared at the table. “You’re just getting maudlin because you’ve had too much to drink, aren’t you?” said Severa dryly.

Kjelle laughed bitterly. “Yeah, probably.”

“Well, get some sleep, then,” said Severa, gentling her voice. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

The other woman grimaced. “You obviously aren’t familiar with the concept of a hangover.” She pushed herself upright, leaning on the table, and groaned. “Fortunately, I’m staying upstairs, so I don’t have far to walk.”

“Sweet dreams, Kjelle,” said Severa. Kjelle waved in reply and began making her way towards the stairs at the back of the common room.

Severa stepped out into the street and took a deep breath of the cool autumn air. _I had never realized how much Kjelle tied her identity into fighting… but now that I think about it, I really should have much sooner._ She sighed. _I guess things_ were _much simpler when we were at war… all we had to worry about was surviving until the next day, doing what needed to be done._

_I guess, all that time, we never considered what would happen next. It was too far away, too unlikely to even imagine._

_No wonder Kjelle wanted a drink._

She’d be sure to check in on Kjelle tomorrow—hopefully, her friend would be in a better state by then. In the meantime, however, she had a job to do. Paula and Renee had patiently foregone attending the festival, and it was on her to relieve the sisters so that they’d be able to enjoy the evening. She’d also have to rearrange the guard rotation on Lucina, to make sure that each of the pegasus knights got sufficient time to enjoy the festival, and a dozen other tasks, beside that. Severa quickened her pace, heading up the long road to the castle.

 _This is going to be a_ much _longer week than I thought._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *exhausted sigh* In my hubris, I believed that I could put the events of the Harvest Festival into one _slightly_ longer chapter. One _considerably_ longer chapter later, I have made the discovery that to restrain the festival to a single chapter would be a disservice to the characters. So look forward to continued Harvest Festival shenanigans in the (relatively) near future.
> 
> For those curious, I did a bit of research on _[Hanakotoba](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanakotoba)_ , the Japanese language of flowers, for the Chon'sin jewelry stand. Fascinating stuff, definitely worth browsing through if you have a spare moment and the inclination.
> 
> I always enjoy reading comments--don't be shy! ^_~


	14. Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severa escorts Lucina through the Harvest Festival, with Kjelle’s cryptic remarks about Owain still on her mind.

“How was the first day of the festival?” Lucina asked over breakfast.

Severa, stirring sugar into her mug of tea, shrugged. “I suppose that it went acceptably.”

“Only _acceptably_?” said the Exalt. “Why would that be?”

“Because I was walking around on my own, probably,” said Severa. “Not that I really expected company. Noire and Kjelle both have jobs to do, and I doubt I’d be able to keep up with Cynthia.” She winced, remembering how Cynthia had returned to the castle shortly after she had. Apparently she’d run into Ellen at the festival as well, for the younger girl was behind her, laden down with what seemed like dozens of parcels.

Lucina smiled. “I hadn’t really thought about it, but it makes sense that having company would make a difference,” she said.

Severa took a sip of her tea, clicked her tongue disapprovingly, and reached for the sugar again. “I guess that I’m just not used to doing things by myself anymore,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh, stirring in another spoonful. “I’ve become a real team player, haven’t I?”

“I’m glad,” said Lucina. “Though, somewhat confused. It always seemed like you worked well with others to me.”

“Well, I certainly worked well with _you_ , at least,” said Severa, grinning. She took another sip of her newly sweetened tea, this time nodding in satisfaction. “But as far as the others went… I guess that I never got along with them as well as I could have. Laurent and Gerome and I spent half the trip to Plegia arguing, and a good bit of the way back, too.”

“I hadn’t heard _that_ ,” said Lucina.

Severa rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “We, uh, disagreed in some respects as to the best method of returning to Ylisstol.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to rush back straight away, by the fastest route possible, and get the Gemstones to you at all costs. Gerome and Laurent thought that it would be better if we moved slowly and cautiously. Since it was two to one, we did it their way.” She sighed. “It was a good thing, too. If they’d followed my dumb advice, we’d have run straight through the middle of an army of Grimleal. We wouldn’t have realized they were there until it was too late.”

“You hardly could have known that at the time,” said Lucina. “And it warms my heart to know you were willing to risk your life for me.”

“Hmph, are you honestly surprised at all?” Severa raised her eyebrows at Lucina. “Any one of us would have done that. Gerome and Laurent were just smarter about it than I was.” _And if mother and I are any indication, being in love doesn’t exactly make for clear judgment._ She took another sip of tea.

“I’m just glad that all three of you came back safely,” said Lucina. “If any of you had—”

“Hey, none of that,” said Severa hastily. “Come on, Lucina, it’s a festival week. We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Lucina.

“So,” said Severa, “what would you like to do today, Your Grace?”

An eager note entered the Exalt’s voice “I thought we might be able to go down to the festival, actually! I wanted to go yesterday, but I didn’t want to put too much pressure on my bodyguards.”

“That’s a good point. Paula’s pretty intimidated by your rank, and Renee is intimidated by… well, almost everyone.”

“I noticed that she didn’t talk much… was that why?” Lucina actually looked thoughtful. “Hm. Maybe I should put some thought into cultivating a more approachable image…”

“Well, going down to the festival certainly _is_ a good way to start,” said Severa. Her meal finished, she stood and moved back from the table. “Before we go down, though I need to talk to Cynthia. I did promise her that I would let her pick out a dress for me when I went down, after all.”

“Maybe she could pick one out for me, too,” said Lucina. “I don’t want to draw _too much_ attention to myself, and my choice of attire seems to be quite eye-catching.”

 _Oh, thank the gods_ , Severa thought, relieved. Since the war had ended, she’d discovered that Lucina’s fashion sense was indeed “eye-catching”—though perhaps not in the way that Lucina thought. Her princess had no eye whatsoever for fashion, frequently choosing clashing colors and patterns that almost literally hurt the eye.

“I’m sure that Cynthia will be able to pick out something nice for each of us,” said Severa. She nodded to Lucina. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

\---

Half an hour later, Severa leaned against the wall outside of Cynthia’s room, arms crossed, drumming her fingers impatiently on one bicep. She was dressed much more “festively” now: a pale green skirt and brown bodice over a white blouse with flowing sleeves. Cynthia’s excitement at getting to “play dress-up with Sevvy” had paled in comparison to her glee at being asked for fashion advice by the Exalt herself, and once her outfit had been chosen, Severa had been quickly forgotten.

She had been secretly glad of the opportunity to leave: her friend had been a little too enthusiastic about lacing her into the bodice, and it had been difficult for her to breathe before she loosened the garment up. Besides, Cynthia’s idea of playing dress-up involved a great deal of getting _un_ dressed, and she didn’t trust herself _not_ to gape at the Exalt in her smallclothes. Even thinking about it made her blush. _If Cynthia wasn’t so focused, maybe both of us would be…_ She put her fingers to her forehead, shaking her head. _No, no, stop right there._

The latch clicked, and Severa straightened up, speaking before the door had finished opening. “Are you ready to go, Lucina?”

“I think so,” said the princess, stepping out with a beaming Cynthia behind her. “How do I look?”

Severa found herself at a loss for words, and merely stared. Cynthia had found Lucina a light blue dress with elbow-length sleeves that nicely brought out the color of her hair. Her shoulders were covered by a matching shawl with darker blue embroidery along its edges. Unlike Severa’s own garb, Lucina’s skirt fell well short of her knees: instead, her legs were covered by thigh-high stockings in the same dark blue as her shawl’s embroidery. Severa’s eyes were drawn to the bit of bare leg between the top of Lucina’s stockings and the hem of her skirt, but she forced them up to Lucina’s face, blushing.

“You look… um, nice,” said Severa lamely. _“Nice.” Ugh, gods, is that the best I can do?_ She took another look, telling herself it was only for the sake of thinking of a better compliment. “Huh. That looks kind of like a pegasus knight honor guard uniform, actually…” Her mother had owned a similar outfit, though she had rarely worn it. There had been precious few occasions for celebration back then.

“That’s because it is!” said Cynthia, skipping out of the room. “And take a look at the embroidery on the shawl: it’s the Brand of the Exalt!”

Severa squinted. Sure enough, there it was, repeated over and over again. “Whoever made this had too much time on their hands,” she muttered.

“I think it was your dad, actually,” Cynthia giggled.

Severa shook her head. _Why am I not surprised…_

“So, are we ready to go, then?” said Lucina, smiling.

“If you’re sure that you won’t get cold in that outfit,” said Severa, letting herself believe that her second glance down at Lucina’s legs was pointed rather than appraising. “I’d bring a cloak, just in case.”

“I’m lucky to have you to look out for me,” said Lucina—an echo of the words she had spoken to Severa on the castle wall, watching the sun rise those few months ago. Severa rolled her eyes.

“I guess I should consider myself fortunate that you have _actual sleeves_ ,” she said in a long-suffering tone.

Her Exalt merely laughed in reply.

\---

As the sun reached its height, the Exalt and her bodyguard moved through the midst of the markets, Lucina moving from stall to stall as the fancy took her. Severa kept a few steps behind Lucina, shadowing her, ever on the alert for anyone who might intend her Exalt harm. She judged the odds of that to be tiny, but as her father had often said, there was no such thing as too much caution. _Next thing I know, they’ll start calling me “Severa the Wary.” Won’t that be something…_

There were frequent shouts of “It’s the Exalt!” and “Your Grace!” as they made their way through the streets. Despite the reservations that Lucina had expressed earlier about interacting with her subjects, she seemed perfectly at ease—greeting each one with a cheerful wave and a few words of greeting before smoothly moving on. Severa was reminded of Exalt Lissa: she had always remained friendly and approachable, even in the midst of the chaos following her brother’s death. Lucina had always been compared to her father—brave and courteous, always ready to lead her comrades into battle—but there was a great deal of her aunt in her, as well. _Not that I would expect anything less of Lucina. She’s a natural leader._

Watching Lucina exchange greetings with a young man selling flowers, Severa remembered the _tsubaki_ pendant, still stowed away in her newly repaired purse. She hadn’t worked up the courage to give it to Lucina that morning. _I suppose today’s the best chance I’ll get… and hopefully Kjelle doesn’t remember too much about last night. Otherwise my gift might be awkward to explain._ Severa shook her head. _But… not now. Later. Definitely later._

Lucina and the man finished exchanging pleasantries and, with a last wave, the princess moved on. Severa followed, still glancing to and fro. A growing noise from up ahead made her frown: a crowd had formed, blocking off almost the entire street. There was cheering, and chanting, but she couldn’t make out the words. One thing was certain, however: it wasn’t Lucina’s name that they were shouting. She sped up, moving up to Lucina’s side and putting her hand to the dagger that hung at her side. “Stay behind me, Lucina,” she said as she stepped up next to the princess.

“Is something wrong?”

“I just… don’t like crowds.” Severa grimaced. “Whenever I see one, I always feel like something bad has happened…”

Lucina put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Severa.”

“Worrying is my job,” said Severa, but she gave the princess a smile nonetheless.

They were on the outskirts of the crowd now, and the few people whose attention wasn’t focused inward quickly noticed the Exalt’s presence. Shouts of “make way!” and “clear a path!” went up, and in short order an aisle of sorts had opened in the crowd, conducting Lucina and her bodyguard through towards what must have been the center of the crowd’s focus: a diminutive girl in a fine dress, her short, bright-green hair unmistakable. She waved to them cheerfully.

“Lucina! Severa! Nice to see you!”

“Nah!” said Lucina, stepping forward to wrap her friend in a hug. “I should have expected to find you here!”

“I wouldn’t want to miss the festival, after all,” said the manakete, stepping away. She glanced over Lucina’s shoulder, looking at the crowd, and continued in a low voice. “Of course, it’s hard to move around when everyone wants to worship the ground I walk on…”

“Life must be _so hard_ for you,” muttered Severa.

Nah giggled. “I suppose that I shouldn’t complain.”

“You _suppose_. Right…” Severa looked around at the cheering crowd. Thankfully enough, the townsfolk seemed inclined to keep their distance and let their idols talk to each other in relative peace.

“I’m surprised to see you two wearing dresses,” said Nah, looking them over. As usual, she was wearing a dress of her own, covered with enough ruffles and lace for someone twice her size.

“What do you think?” said Lucina, adjusting her shawl self-consciously. “Is it… strange?”

“Well, it’s not what I’m used to, but you both look cute,” said Nah. With a giggle, she added “Though you have a ways to go before you catch up with me.”

Severa rolled her eyes and changed the subject. “So, where were you yesterday? Obviously not at the festival. I think I would have noticed a commotion like this.”

“At re—” Nah very clearly faked a cough and shook her head. “At the Shepherds’ barracks. Owain and Inigo asked for my help, and I couldn’t say no.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “Actually, the reason that I chose to show up now was to help them out, too. Laurent asked me to create a distraction.”

“A distraction?” said Lucina, puzzled. Nah shrugged.

“Just to get people focused somewhere else. He’s trying not to draw attention to himself.”

“So what, he throws you to the wolves with no back-up?” Severa rolled her eyes. “Ugh, how typical.”

“I never said I was alone,” said Nah. She put her fingers to the sides of her mouth and whistled sharply. Almost immediately, a pair of figures detached themselves from the crowd to step to her side. Severa didn’t recognize either of them, but she assumed by their garb and bearing that they were more new members of the Shepherds. She waved a hand toward Lucina and Severa, somewhat dismissively. “You can introduce yourselves, people.”

“As the Lady Voice wishes,” said the first, a tall and white-haired man wearing the robes of a Chon’sin swordsman. He put a hand to his heart, giving Lucina and Severa a formal half-bow. “I am Jun’yi of Chon’sin, dispatched to be sword and shield to Naga’s Voice. I am honored to meet with those who slew the Fell Dragon.”

The woman next to him was also wearing robes, though hers—a deep purple to his grey—left significantly less to the imagination. Her hair, a bright orange color, was pulled into a trio of braids at her back. She gave her comrade a sultry grin, speaking up in almost a purr as she laid a hand on his shoulder. “Jun, darling, you’re so uptight. ‘Honored to meet them?’ Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”

“Prithee, do not stand so close,” said the swordsman flatly, taking a step to the side and clutching the hilt of his single-edged sword like a security blanket.

The sorceress chuckled and nodded to the Exalt. “I’m Chandra. Late of Plegia, though the only thing about it I miss is the sun.” She gave Jun’yi a sidelong glance. “Things are so much more… _interesting_ here. Wouldn’t you agree, Jun?”

The Chon’sin man put the fingers of his right hand to his temples, as if to ward off a headache.

Out of the side of her mouth, Severa muttered to Nah. “Seems to me like they need more protection from each other than they can afford to give you.”

Nah shrugged. “Eh, they’re actually pretty good friends, as far as I can tell. Besides, having them as guards is more for Laurent’s peace of mind than mine. I can turn into a dragon!”

“Fair point,” said Lucina with a laugh.

As Jun’yi and Chandra glared at each other in the background, Severa directed a glare of her own at the Voice. “So, are you going to tell us _why_ Laurent sent you to create a distraction?”

“I would, but that would ruin all the fun,” said Nah with a wicked grin.

“Gods, are all of you keeping the same secret?” said Severa in exasperation. “Kjelle was being just as tight-lipped about something with the Shepherds last night. Said that I’d be pleasantly surprised or something. But the longer I go without finding out, the more _un_ pleasant I’m going to be.”

“I’ll pass that along to the others. Maybe one of them will take pity on you.” Nah snapped her fingers, prompting the two bickering Shepherds to spring to attention. “All right, time to move along. I’ve got a merchant or two to meet with.”

Jun’yi inclined his head gravely. “As the Lady Voice wishes.”

His companion rolled her eyes. “‘As the Lady Voice wishes,’ he says. What did I just say about being formal all the time?”

Nah, for her part, ignored their antics. “Let’s get going now, chop-chop.” She waved over her shoulder. “Later, Lucina. Later, Severa!” With that, the trio moved off, Chandra throwing an arm around Jun’yi’s stiff shoulders as they did. Most of the crowd trailed after them, an unofficial escort party for Naga’s Voice.

“Well,” said Severa after a moment.

Lucina looked at her. “Well?”

“Well.” Severa raked her fingers through her hair. “They’re certainly a… colorful bunch.”

“Isn’t that how the Shepherds have always been, though?” said Lucina. “They’re no odder than you or I, really.”

“I suppose so,” Severa admitted. “From the stories that daddy used to tell me, our parents’ friends were just as weird.”

The Exalt grinned, remembering. “Like how, for the longest time, half of the Shepherds thought that Kjelle’s dad was a ghost?”

“Or how Cynthia’s dad spent almost all of his off-duty time looking for cakes and candies,” said Severa.

“And her mom dropped a beehive full of bees on his head!” Lucina laughed. “I remember them acting out that story. There was a lot of screaming and flailing involved.”

Severa snorted. “Well, when you look at it that way, I suppose that things could be worse.”

“What exactly do you mean by _worse_?”

“They’re not nearly as bad as we used to be, are they?” Severa winked. “I mean, come on! Owain’s twitching sword hand? Noire constantly shouting? Inigo flirting with anything that moved?” She paused for a moment after the last one. “Actually, come to think of it, he had too much to drink one night and tried to kiss a statue of Naga. So ‘anything that moved’ doesn’t quite sum it up thoroughly.”

Lucina covered her mouth with one hand. “Did he really… with a _statue_?”

“…maybe?” She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “I may have been drinking from the same cask of wine that he was.” _And I may have mistaken the same statue for you… and may have tried to kiss the same statue…_

The Exalt laughed. “Well, I’d say that we’ll all have plenty of stories to tell our children, wouldn’t you say?”

Severa suppressed the urge to say that wasn’t sure how _she_ would have children and settled for nodding instead. “Yeah, I guess.” Unsure of what to say next, she changed the subject. “I think it’s past noon, and I’m getting hungry. Should we find somewhere to eat?”

Lucina smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

\---

The day passed in a blur of laughter and music, far too quickly for Severa’s taste. Nonetheless, she treasured each of the small memories she made—Lucina, laughing and offering Severa a handkerchief to clean up a small spot on her dress. Lucina, admiring a pair of fur-lined gloves at a Feroxi merchant’s stand. Lucina, winning a prize at a ring toss stand and immediately handing it over to a little boy who had been longingly staring at it. Lucina, Lucina, Lucina…

Almost before she knew it, it was time for dinner. She and Lucina made their way to a section of the market where a variety of food stands were clustered, with open-air tables surrounding them. Lucina, sniffing at the air, made her way towards a stand with an awning-covered kitchen out behind it.

The woman behind the counter, sleeves rolled up to reveal the burly arms of a person who was no stranger to hard work. “Good evenin’, Your Grace,” she said, giving a nod in lieu of a bow. “Can I get ya somethin’?”

Lucina, surveying the painted wooden menu leaning up against the front of the stall, suddenly looked unsure. “Um, I… well, I suppose that… um. What would you recommend?” The princess scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “Sorry. I’m afraid I don’t have much experience with ordering food…”

Severa, behind her, stifled a grin. _Give her a sword and put her on the battlefield, and she’s unstoppable. But put her in front of a menu, and she’s overwhelmed by the choices. Although, to be honest, she’d eat pretty much anything._ Lucina had suffered through failed attempts at cooking from every one of her friends, and never voiced a word of complaint.

The woman smiled encouragingly. “Let me see… we’ve some fine pork from this year’s prize pig. That’s prob’ly our best, but if ya have the taste for somethin’ else, we’ve got baked potatoes and cornbread as well. And a fine, pale ale to go with.”

“All of that sounds delicious,” said Lucina. She looked back at Severa, as if pleading for help. Rolling her eyes, the Exalt’s bodyguard stepped forward.

“We’ll take some of everything.” _That’ll save her the trouble of having to choose something in particular._

“Right you are, miss,” said the woman. She turned around, barking an order over her shoulder. “Full meal for two. Get on it, Mattie!”

“Will do, ma!” came a young man’s voice. After a bit of clattering around, the farmer from the previous day emerged, carrying two heaping plates. He nearly dropped them when he saw the Exalt standing there, and only his mother’s hasty intervention saved the dinners from the ground.

“Ye gods, Mattie, be careful!”

“S-sorry, ma.” The young farmer gulped and bowed. “Y-your Grace, i-i-it’s an honor!” He set the plates on the counter, where they were within reach, and nearly hit his nose on the hard wood when he bowed.

“No need for that,” said Lucina. “Right now, I’m not the Exalt—just another customer.”

“If you s-say so,” said Mattie, running a frazzled hand through his hair. He spotted Severa behind Lucina’s shoulder and looked relieved for the chance to change the subject. “Ah, miss Severa, right? I hope that you and your friend were able to get set up all right?”

“Thanks to your help, yes,” said Severa, taking pity on him. She turned to Lucina. “Noire and I were stuck on the cart yesterday morning, but fortunately he was able to clear a path for us to get through. It saved Noire a lot of stress.”

“A truly honorable thing to do,” said Lucina approvingly. Mattie blushed crimson and fled back to the safety of the kitchen, babbling something about checking on the potatoes. His mother watched him go with an affectionate expression, then turned back to the Exalt.

“I expect y’all will be wantin’ some drinks as well, but I’ll bring ‘em out to ya. Y’all just go sit down and enjoy your food. And don’t ya worry about payin’,” she added as Lucina reached for her purse. The woman winked. “I reckon that y’all’ve earned a free meal or two, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Thank you very much,” said Lucina, giving a half-bow of her own. Severa watched her, raising an eyebrow. _Gods, she’s so_ sincere… _I don’t think I could handle that level of gratefulness._

She picked up the plates from the counter and looked over to Lucina, clearing her throat. “We’d better find a seat before the rush comes. Lead the way.”

“Sure,” said Lucina. She waved to the woman. “Thank you again!”

The pair found a small table tucked away between two unoccupied stands—the owners having apparently closed up for the night. It was the perfect place to observe the square without being gawked at, and Severa set down the plates with a sigh of relief. _I was half afraid I was going to trip and drop them_ … _Luckily, I’m not Cynthia._

She slid into her seat opposite Lucina and pulled one of the plates in front of her. “Well, let’s dig in,” she said, putting action to words as she brandished her fork like a sword and picked up a piece of pork. Her eyes widened as she took a bite. “Wow… this really _is_ good. We’re lucky we got out here when we did, or we might not have gotten a chance to have it before they ran out.”

“You’re probably right,” said Lucina. She took a bite of her own, chewing in a thoughtful silence that Severa was reluctant to break. She was grateful when Mattie, a mug of ale in each hand, came up and placed the drinks on the edge of the table before scurrying away. Severa sipped at hers, feeling warmth rush to her face almost immediately. The ale was much stronger than she had anticipated… certainly stronger than what she’d been used to drinking over the past two years. She took another sip anyway: even if it was strong, it was _good_.

“So, what do you think about the _big secret_ that Nah’s helping with?” said Lucina, taking a sip of her ale. She seemed considerably less effected than Severa—something that her knight couldn’t help but feel slightly envious of.

“Well, I’ll admit I was a bit worried when Kjelle mentioned it last night,” said Severa through a mouthful of cornbread. “Though I’ll admit that was mostly because I heard Owain was involved.”

Lucina raised her eyebrows at the mention of her cousin. “I had a similar thought, but it was easy enough to put aside. After all, both Kjelle and Laurent have good judgment, and if they trust Owain to do… whatever it is he’s doing, then so do I.”

“I just hope that we find out what their plan is soon,” said Severa, shaking her head as she took another gulp of ale.

For the next hour, they talked as they ate. Most of what they discussed was little, inconsequential things: the food, the weather, and their plans for later in the festival. The level of the ale in Severa’s mug steadily decreased, and she felt her tension gradually fading. She had spent so much time in her role as sub-commander, and in striving to follow in her father’s footsteps as the Exalt’s right hand, that she had nearly forgotten what it was to take a break.

She set down her fork on her empty plate. “Hey, Lucina?”

“What is it?”

Severa looked up, smiling faintly. “Thanks for letting me come out here with you. Well, at least…” She shook her head. “You know what I mean.”

“Thank _you_ for coming with me,” said Lucina. “No matter what the situation is, you’re always by my side.” Her smile was radiant.

 _And by your side is where I want to remain for the rest of my life._ Somewhat embarrassed, Severa looked away, staring into her mug. Her thoughts went once again to the pendant. _I need to give it to her. Now, before I lose my nerve._

Severa managed to tear her eyes away from the few sips of ale left in her mug for long enough to make eye contact. “Um, Lucina…”

Lucina smiled at her. “Yes?”

“I had… I mean, that is… I… um…” Severa found herself completely tongue-tied. _I should have thought over what I was going to say… oh gods, I’m going to make a complete idiot of myself._

Lucina’s smile took on a puzzled cast. “You…?”

 _Just get it over with!_ Severa’s hand went jerkily down to her pouch to pull out the pendant. “I bought this.” When Lucina didn’t respond, Severa plunged on with as much delicate consideration as Cynthia tripping into a hedge. “What I mean to say is that I saw this in the market and thought of you. So I bought it. As a gift. For you.” _Yep, there it is. Gods, I couldn’t sound like more of an idiot if I tried…_

Lucina took the pendant from Severa’s hand, their fingers brushing against each other for the slightest moment before drawing away. She held it up to the light just as Severa had when she bought it, the plain metal sparkling yellow in the torchlight. “It’s beautiful,” she said simply, smiling.

“The flower’s called _tsubaki_ ,” Severa blurted. “The woman who sold it told me that it means longing.”

Lucina blinked, and a flush that had nothing to do with the ale began rising in Severa’s cheeks. _Oh gods NO, did I really just… oh gods oh gods oh gods…_

“Longing for… what?” the Exalt said slowly.

“A-a-a better future!” Severa finished hurriedly. “That’s what we fought all this time for, after all! And now we finally have it!” _Please say that worked… Oh, gods, I should_ not _have done that…_

Lucina giggled. “I hadn’t expected you to get so flustered over giving a gift,” she said. There was a teasing note to her voice: normally a rare occurrence for the normally straightforward princess, but something that Severa was becoming increasingly familiar with.

“Well, it’s nowhere near your birthday, and the solstice festival isn’t for another few months,” said Severa. “This is a weird time to give it to you, I guess. But I thought an early present might be nice. You know, to celebrate.”

“I’m touched that you thought of me,” said Lucina. “Thank you, Severa.” She undid the clasp of the chain and fastened it around her neck, letting the pendant settle against her chest. “So, how does it look?”

 _You look beautiful._ Severa made a noncommittal noise. “Well, at least it won’t clash with any of your outfits.”

“Clash?” said Lucina, nonplussed. “What do you mean by that?”

“Uh, never mind.” The noise in the square was beginning to get louder, and for some reason, a crowd was beginning to gather near the north end. _Great, another crowd. Just what I needed today_.

“What’s going on?” said Lucina, leaning over in her chair to get a better look.

“I have no idea,” said Severa. She stood, carefully pushing her chair back in. “But I’ll bet it has something to do with what everyone has been talking about, and I think it’s about time that we found out.”

The pair walked together over to the northern side of the square, the crowd parting before them as the people spotted their Exalt. They reached the front of the crowd to find a large space cleared in front of them. A angelic-faced blonde woman, holding the reins of a white horse in one hand and a notebook in the other, was ushering a small group out of the way as two men stretched a rope between two pegs secured in the ground. Severa barely recognized Gerome without his mask, but the other was clearly Laurent, his wide-brimmed black hat as familiar as ever.

“Twelve feet for this stretch, Kira,” said Laurent, straightening and rolling his shoulders.

The blonde woman nodded, making a note. “Yes, sir. Twelve feet.” She spotted Lucina and nearly dropped the notebook. “Y-your Grace!”

Laurent turned, a hand going to the stem of his glasses. “Ah. Lucina, Severa. Good to see you.”

“What are you doing?” Severa demanded. All three of the Shepherds turned to look at her.

“Making measurements,” said Gerome, in a tone that suggested Severa should stop asking stupid questions.

“Yes, I can see that,” said Severa. “But _why_?”

“A construction project,” Gerome replied, his voice still insufferably smug.

Lucina blinked. “A… construction project?”

“We’re building a stage,” said Laurent, gesturing with one hand to illustrate the empty space.. “If I’ve calculated correctly, it will be finished a day and a half from now.”

“I’m still confused,” said Severa, putting a hand to her temple. “So you’re building a stage. What exactly is the point of that?”

“What is the purpose of a stage?”

Severa glared at Laurent hard enough for him to take a step back. “Don’t answer my question with another question. I don’t take kindly to being needled.”

The mage smirked, straightening his glasses. “My apologies, I will be forthright. The purpose of this construction project, as Gerome named it, is the facilitation of a dramatic production. The entire process has been funded and staged by the Shepherds, down to the devising of the drama itself—”

“You’re putting on a _play_?” Lucina glanced down the line, taking in the wide rectangular shape of the potential stage.

“That’s what he just said,” said Gerome, crossing his arms. Laurent nodded in assent.

“Since when do the Shepherds put on plays?” said Severa.

“Since my raging quill hand has prevailed upon me to set down the account of our daring ventures!” boomed a familiar voice, as the rumbling of cart-wheels drew closer.

“Commander Owain!” Kira checked herself halfway through her salute, keeping the notebook from colliding with her forehead.

“Lo and behold, I have delivered the materials with which we shall construct the scaffold on which the great events shall play out!” Owain flourished his right hand, prompting cheers from the crowd. _He’s certainly popular with the commoners._

“Thank you, Owain,” said Laurent. He turned back to his assistant. “Kira, see if you can find Kjelle and get the other Shepherds to help with the unloading.”

“Sir!” Tucking the notebook into a pouch, she climbed up into the saddle and was off like a shot.

“You wrote a play, huh?” said Severa, raising an eyebrow at Owain.

Owain waved a hand once again, grinning. “I did indeed. But it was not from my own hand alone that this drama sprang, but rather, from the hearts and minds of all of us. Brady teased forth from the strings of his violin a veritable torrent of songs through which our voices may make the story told. And Inigo’s nimble feet have guided our own to move as flowing water or roaring fire, grace in our every action!” He struck a pose at the end of his sentence, slightly out of breath, and held for applause. He was not disappointed.

“So you’re putting on a song-and-dance show about… what, exactly?”

“What other than the heroics of my Exalted cousin and her companions?” the Shepherds’ co-commander said with a broad grin. “With the blood of legendary heroes flowing through our veins, and weapons of yore clasped in our hands, we stood bravely against the Fell Dragon, and with the aid of heroes from—”

Severa stepped forward and grabbed him by the collar. “…you wrote a play about _us_.”

“I wrote a play about us,” agreed Owain.

Severa let out a long sigh, closing her eyes. After a moment, Owain cleared his throat.

“Will you let go of my collar now?” he said meekly.

Severa let her hands fall, shaking her head. “I… ugh.” She waved a finger at him. “This had better not disappoint me.”

“Rest assured, we shall do our utmost to assure you are satisfied,” said Laurent. He turned as Gerome tapped him on the shoulder.

“I’m going to go get Minerva. I’m sure she’d love to help us.”

“An excellent suggestion. I shall accompany you.” The two of them walked off, perhaps a bit _too_ quickly. A moment later, Owain cleared his throat.

“Well, I must go… proof-read the script.” He slipped off before Severa could get in another word edgewise.

Lucina put a hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle. “Well, that was something.”

“A play.” Severa smacked her forehead. “So that was their big secret. I should have guessed.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” The Exalt rubbed her hands together, looking as excited as a child. “Well, it’s getting late, and I still have a few things I need to do before I turn in for the night. I should head back.”

“Of course. I’ll walk with you, if you don’t mind.”

The two edged their way through the crowd, and soon they were on their way back up the road to the castle. The evening was calm and quiet as they made their way up the hill. Lucina, still obviously excited about the play, walked with an extra spring in her step. The princess looked back at her, eyes shining. “I can’t wait to see how it turns out.”

“You’re really looking forward to it?”

“Well, aren’t you?”

Severa shrugged in uncertainty. “I guess. But… well, I’m… not sure.”

“Not sure about what?” said Lucina.

“Well, we’re basically going to be watching ourselves up there,” said Severa. “Everything that we did together during the war. And I’m not sure I’ll like what I see.”

Lucina slowed her pace, putting a hand on Severa’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’m more worried about how I’ll look.”

Severa looked askance at her princess. “I don’t think _you_ have anything to worry about.”

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“I mean… well, it’s _you_ ,” said Severa. “You’re always so self-confident and poised… nothing like me.”

“I suppose it might seem like that,” said Lucina, letting her hand fall. “But not a day goes by when I don’t wonder what my fa—what my parents would have done. How they would have won the war, had they… survived.” There was an odd hesitation to her words, and Severa wondered why. “I compare myself to them, and wonder if I’ll be found wanting.”

“Lucina…” Severa considered her words carefully. “You’re… Before you’re anyone’s child, you’re your own person. Don’t let what other people may think change who you are.”

The Exalt’s eyes widened slightly, and she smiled. “That’s very kind of you to say. And quite wise, too.”

Severa coughed slightly, embarrassed. “Well… I know that I’m probably the least likely person to say something like that, considering the way that I’ve always lived in my parents’ shadow, but… I guess that if I see you making your own path, and moving forward from what’s in the past, that can help me find the courage to move on, too. Being around you makes me feel… braver, I suppose.”

Lucina gave her a sidelong glance. “So you’re saying that you only said that for selfish reasons?”

“Yeah, something along those lines,” said Severa, grinning and forcing a laugh. “You know me. I’m always on the lookout to get something back.”

“Whatever the reason, thank you,” said Lucina.

“You’re welcome,” said Severa.

They walked up the hill, side by side, in the deepening twilight. At every step she took, Severa wanted to reach out, to take Lucina’s hand, to walk more closely to her princess and feel their fingers intertwine.

She didn’t.

_I told her that being around her makes me feel braver. That might be true, but I’m still not nearly brave enough._

_I told myself that being by her side would make me happy._

_Was I wrong?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because that musical that Owain mentioned in the epilogue had to show up at _some point_ , right?
> 
> Random thoughts I had during the long, long writing process of this chapter:  
> -I need to justify the default Pegasus Knight outfits from Awakening _somehow_  
>  -probably half of Severa's wardrobe as a child was knitted by Frederick--NO, NOT NOW  
> -*humming* Nahhhhhh Nahhh Nahhh _NAH-NAH-NAH NAHHHHHHH_  
>  -Jun'yi looks like Sephiroth. But, like, a _chill_ Sephiroth.  
>  -Chandra probably cooks with Elfire.
> 
> Severa's conversation with Lucina near the end of the chapter was a slightly modified version of their dialogue in Hot Spring Scramble, adapted to fit the setting and context better (and to cut down on overall length).
> 
> I feel like I should apologize for the involuntary month-long hiatus... this chapter has been _nearly done_ since Thanksgiving, but with seven concerts in two weeks, directly followed by final exams and the completion of a roughly 25-page research paper, I didn't have much time to do anything else. It will be a bit before the next chapter, as I'm working on a Nagamas prompt for a January deadline, but rest assured: I really am back.
> 
> Leave a comment if you've got something to say about the chapter, the fic, or something similar! ^_^


	15. Legendary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the festival continues, Owain and his Shepherds undertake their most ambitious project yet: a retelling of the defeat of Grima in song and dance.

Severa, her arms crossed, looked over the square and shook her head. “I’m impressed, Laurent.”

The mage tipped the brim of his hat, a faint smile coming to his face. “Coming from you, that’s high praise indeed.”

“Hmph,” said Severa, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be able to get it done so quickly, that’s all.”

“Well, we had quite a bit of time to perfect the process when we were rehearsing,” said Laurent. He extended a hand to encompass the square. “Quite the change, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Severa. “It really is.”

With the exception of a few food stands along the edges, all of the stands had been cleared away. In their place was a long, low stage, roughly fifty feet wide and thirty feet deep. Wide sets of stairs at either side led up to the stage. The wings were blocked off from the eyes of the audience by wooden screens painted to resemble the walls of a castle. That pattern was continued by small scaffolds stretching onto the stage, and a canvas backdrop painted to resemble the night sky hung behind the “castle.” _It’s better than I expected it to be… guess they’re really taking it seriously._

Laurent cleared his throat, and Severa glanced at him. “What?”

“What?” He looked back, a somewhat confused expression on his face.

“Were you going to…?”

“Was I…” The mage blinked. “Ah. No.”

“Then… what?”

“Nothing.” One gloved hand shot up to the stem of his glasses, making an adjustment that appeared wholly unnecessary.

Comprehension dawned on Severa. “You’re _nervous_.”

Laurent shut his eyes tightly, letting out a long breath as he nodded. “Now that it comes down to the moment of truth, I will admit to experiencing some feelings of trepidation.”

“ _Seriously_?” A broad smirk came to Severa’s face. “Laurent, we stole the Fire Emblem from the Grimleal and smuggled it across half the continent. This should be _easy_.”

“Perhaps, but all the same…” Laurent shook his head. “This sort of undertaking is not a familiar one.”

Severa gave Laurent’s shoulder a playful punch. “Come on, lighten up. I’m sure that you’ll blow everyone away.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yourself included?”

“Ha. You wish.”

Laurent chuckled softly. “Well. One can always hope.”

“E-e-excuse me, sub-commander?” The timid voice behind them made both Laurent and Severa turn to see two of the pegasus knight recruits behind them. Ellen stood stiffly at attention, while Zoe merely looked bored.

“Oh good, you two made it,” said Severa.

Zoe looked over the stage with her usual bored expression. “What was it you wanted us down here for?”

 _Gods, would it kill her to show a little more enthusiasm?_ “The two of you will be on guard duty tonight.” Severa pointed toward a bench in the center of the front row, near the foot of the stage. “Her Grace, the Exalt, will be seated there for the duration of the play. Although I doubt that anyone would dare to attack her in the presence of so many of her comrades, we must never relax our guard.”

Severa pinned down both of them with her gaze, impressing upon them the importance of her words. Ellen bobbed her head in nervous agreement. Zoe merely sighed. “So… how do we go about it, then? I assume you have a plan.”

“The two of you will be seated a few rows back, on either side of Her Grace’s position,” said Severa. “From there, you should be able to spot if anything troublesome is on its way. You can handle that, right?”

“Y-you can count on us, S-Severa,” said Ellen.

“Sure, whatever,” said Zoe. “But what are _you_ going to be doing in the meantime?”

“ _I_ ,” said Severa irritably, “will be at Her Grace’s side, as I always have been. Should the need arise, I am sure that I will have no problem defending the Exalt. But if you do your jobs properly, I should have nothing to worry about.”

The lanky recruit gulped. “Uh. Right.” At another withering glare from Severa, she snapped off a salute. “I mean, yes, sub-commander.”

“Very good,” said Severa. She waved a hand. “Dismissed.”

As the two recruits moved off, Laurent glanced over at Severa. A slow smile came to his face, and Severa flushed. “Hey, what are you looking at?”

“ _You’re_ nervous.”

“Am not.”

“Don’t bother denying it. You can’t fool me.” Laurent tapped the stem of his glasses with a finger.

Severa twitched. “All right, _fine_ , I’m nervous.”

“Severa, you stepped between Lucina and the Fell Dragon itself. Compared to that, something like this should hardly be significant.” The somewhat condescending tone in Laurent’s voice was—probably purposefully—almost identical to the tone she had used on _him_ earlier. _I should learn to keep my mouth shut, since everyone else seems to be so talented at deflecting my own words back at me…_

“Yeah, I remember,” she said gruffly. “That was then. This is now.”

There was an odd note to Laurent’s voice. “You’re not the only one who—”

“Laurent!” Gerome, already armored and masked, strode towards the pair. “The Shepherds are waiting in the wings, but we still need to go over your checklist.”

The mage clicked his tongue. “That’s right.”

“A checklist?” Severa glanced up at the sky. “But it’s still more than two hours before the play’s supposed to start!”

Laurent shrugged. “Proper preparation always takes a significant amount of time.” His hands went to the brim of his hat, straightening it out. “Sorry, Severa. We’ll talk more later.” He hurried to Gerome’s side, and the two of them headed off to the other side of the wooden screens, leaving Severa alone once again.

 _I’m not the only one who… what?_ Severa bit her lip. _What was he trying to say? Ugh. How typical to be left hanging._

Shaking her head, Severa turned back towards the palace hill. Whatever Laurent meant, it would have to wait until later.

 ---

An air of hushed anticipation hung over the square. The sun had fully set, but stage and seats alike were awash with magically-created light.

She glanced to her left, where Lucina was seated. The Exalt shifted in her seat from time to time, seemingly unable to sit completely still. _I knew she had a cute side, but I didn’t expect it to be quite this prevalent…_

“Excited, Lucina?”

The Exalt turned to her with an almost giddy grin. “Incredibly. Aren’t you?”

“I’m withholding judgment until I’ve figured out whether or not Owain wrote a play worth watching,” said Severa. She winked mischievously and shook the bag of hazelnuts she’d bought from one of the stands. “If not… I’m going to see how many bullseyes I can score while he’s onstage.”

Lucina stifled a laugh. “I’m sure the play will be fine.”

“And if it isn’t?”

The princess’s hand darted into Severa’s bag and snatched a hazelnut, and her eyes glinted wickedly as she bounced it on her palm before popping it into her mouth. “Then we’ll make it a contest.”

The low buzz of conversation began to fade away as the lights in the audience dimmed, and Severa felt Lucina’s hand close around hers, squeezing tightly in excitement. Severa, blushing, kept her eyes forward. She doubted Lucina was even aware of the effect that she had, and she knew it would be for the best if matters stayed that way.

The lights faded to almost nothing, and Severa found herself squinting slightly, trying to see through the darkness. Then, quite abruptly, two beams of light—cast from mirrored towers at the far end of the square—illuminated a single figure standing in the middle of the stage: Owain.

The co-captain of the Shepherds raised one hand in front of him in a declamatory gesture, and Severa fought the urge to roll her eyes. _This is already ridiculous…_ She was reaching for a hazelnut to throw when Owain began to speak, his voice almost mesmerizing. She froze, transfixed by the rhythm of his words.

> **OWAIN**  
>  “ _Before the fall, the steps of heroes strode_  
>  _Upon our homeland’s green and grassy fields._  
>  _Their deeds live on in legend and in song:_  
>  _The battles that they fought, the wars they won,_  
>  _And most of all, the friendships that they made._  
>  _Throughout the years, the Shepherds shielded us,_  
>  _The Exalt and his bride, their captains bold._  
>  _You know their names, our heroes one and all  
>  __Who gave their lives, that we might all live free  
>  __From Grima’s shadow, and the dragon’s ire._ ”

As Owain spoke, Severa gradually became aware of movement behind him: the shadowy outlines of men and women. They moved slowly, as if through water, their movements smooth and deliberate, and sang softly as they danced: a song without discernible words, its melody halfway between a hymn of triumph and an elegy, full of shifting harmonies and open chords. She lost herself in it as Owain spoke on, telling of the death of the Exalt and the long war in which so many had died, of the seemingly futile hope for defeating Grima that their parents had held, and of the repeated failures.

She was close enough to see the agony in his eyes when he spoke of his own mother’s death: the last of the original Shepherds to die, bereft of her comrades, wishing only for her children’s future. Yet he spoke on, unhesitating. The music became jarring and discordant, and the movements of the dancers swift and violent, as Owain told of the first attack on the capital, the furious defense, and the desperate plan to retrieve the Gemstones and the Fire Emblem. But suddenly, there was silence: the others withdrew, and once again Owain stood alone on the stage, under the light. His voice was solemn, almost quiet, but Severa had no doubt that everyone in the square could hear his words, so rapt was the audience’s attention.

> **OWAIN**  
>  _“And so we parted, knowing in our hearts_  
>  _That all of us might never meet again._  
>  _But pressing onward, with determined stride,_  
>  _We sought salvation in the wilderness._  
>  _With steadfast voices raised unto the sky,_  
>  _We made it known that hope would never die.”_

Owain stepped back, and the light from the towers began to fade—seemingly, the first scene was at an end. Severa took in a long breath, letting it all out in an instant. “Gods… that was…”

“Amazing, right?” Lucina barely managed to keep her voice to a whisper. “I never knew Owain could write like this! It’s… there are so many different things about—”

“Shh! The next scene’s starting!” Severa hushed her Exalt with a brusqueness that she knew would embarrass her later. _But the lights are coming back up, and I don’t want to miss a single moment of this!_

\---

Severa lost track of time, completely absorbed in the play, seeing events that she had heard about but not seen re-enacted in front of her. Despite knowing the final outcome, she was still on the edge of her seat in white-knuckled suspense as Kjelle’s party was backed into a corner. She cheered with the rest of the audience when a group of angelic warriors, their masked faces seeming to glow with otherworldly light, appeared to strike down the Risen.

_I guess that they’re supposed to represent our parents? Well, it’s certainly a pretty-looking metaphor, at any rate…_

Along with the rest of the audience, she watched the final scene of the first act in mute horror: a dark figure, wreathed in shadows, striking down the Voice of the Divine Dragon in the heart of Ylisstol itself. She knew that the young woman on stage was not Lucina, just as she knew that the Voice was only Nah, a longer wig covering her hair. But all the same, the actress’s scream of loss as Tiki’s life slowly slipped away—the lighting on stage fading away with it—was heart-wrenching.

As the mage-lights slowly faded back in—apparently, it was intermission now—Severa stood, swaying slightly with lightheadedness. “I’m going to stretch my legs for a bit. What about you?”

“Go on ahead, I’ll catch up,” said Lucina.

“I can wait for you—”

“There’s no need for that,” said the Exalt.

“Really, it’s not a problem…”

“Just _go_ ,” said Lucina, with an abruptness that made Severa jump.

“Huh?” She managed to get a good look at Lucina’s face, and her eyes widened in shock: the princess’s eyes were filled with unshed tears, and her shoulders shook slightly with suppressed sobs. “Lucina, are you—”

“I just…” Lucina took a deep, shaky breath. “I need a moment to myself.”

Severa took a step back. “Sorry…”

“It’s fine,” said Lucina. “I’ll see you shortly.”

“Yeah.” Severa moved off, chewing on her bottom lip as she went. _Idiot. Of course she wants some time alone—she was the only one there when Tiki died. And I only made her feel worse by pressing her about it…_

She meandered through the rows of seats, giving an approving nod to Ellen as she passed. The young knight didn’t notice: she was too busy staring fixedly at Lucina’s spot to make sure that nobody suspicious was approaching. _How admirably dutiful of her._

As she reached the edge of the crowd, she noticed two women in front of her, hand in hand. It took her a moment to realize that both of them looked familiar. “Teresa? Lily?”

Lily dropped Teresa’s hand as quickly as if she had been burned, whirling to face Severa as the pair edged apart. “A-ah! Severa… f-fancy seeing you here. What a coincidence.” She giggled with uncharacteristic nervousness.

“What else did you think I would be doing tonight?” said Severa. She glanced over at Teresa, whose cheeks were heating slightly. “Good evening, Teresa.”

“Good evening, sub-commander.” Teresa clasped her hands in front of her. Severa, glancing down, could see her subordinate’s fingers twitching nervously, but she was also quick to note the bracelet around the soldier’s left wrist. _So she got Lily’s gift. How sweet. These two couldn’t be any more obvious if they tried._

“So, how are you enjoying the play so far?” said Severa, a smug smile creeping to her face.

“Ah, the play!” said Lily, relieved. “The play is… I like it. It’s great! Very well done.”

“Yes, I agree,” said Teresa, also too quickly. “It is definitely quite good. Though you have not been given very much focus yet, sub-commander.”

“I’m sure that will change later on,” said Severa. “After all, we’re only halfway through.”

“Of course, you are right,” said Teresa.

Lily bobbed her head in agreement. “Yep, yep, that she is.”

Severa imagined that if she stood there much longer, she would be able to see both women break out into a sweat. She let the awkwardness stretch on for a few moments longer before finally taking pity on them. “Well, I should get back to the Exalt. You two enjoy the rest of your date.”

“Thanks, we will—” Lily realized what she was saying a fraction of a second too late, and clapped her hand over her mouth with a comically horrified expression on her face. Teresa, blushing even harder, stared determinedly at the ground as Severa, chuckling merrily, made her way back to her seat.

Lucina looked up as Severa approached, hastily bringing down the sleeve she had been dabbing at her eyes. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks.” Severa cleared her throat. “Do you… uh… Are you feeling better?”

“I am,” said Lucina, giving Severa a wan smile. “Sorry that I snapped at you earlier. I—”

“Stop,” said Severa, holding up a hand. “Lucina… You don’t have to apologize to me, all right? I know that I’m not always the easiest person to deal with. I’ve never been the best at dealing with other people… I’ve been getting better at it, but I still have a long way to go.”

“Severa… thank you,” said Lucina.

Severa settled back into her seat, gingerly. “Is this… very hard for you?”

Lucina shook her head. “Well, I won’t pretend it’s easy. But seeing it like this, now that everything is over… It’s almost calming to be able to think back on it and know that everything turned out all right.”

“I know what you mean.” Severa timidly put a hand on her princess’s shoulder. “I… I wish I could have been there with you. I can’t imagine what it was like, dealing with that by yourself…”

“You were there for me when it really counted,” said Lucina, smiling more warmly now. “When you all came back… There’s nothing that has ever meant more to me, and there’s no amount of thanks in the world that would be enough.” Their eyes met, and Severa saw unshakable sincerity stamped onto Lucina’s gaze as firmly as the brand in her eye. Once again, Severa was tempted to confess—but just then, the light began to fade, and she returned to her senses.

“Looks like the play’s about to start again,” she said, hurriedly breaking eye contact and looking forward with simultaneous relief and disappointment.

“Yes,” said Lucina simply. “I can’t wait to see how they wrote the ending.”

The second act began at a breakneck pace, with Owain’s group fleeing from a massive army of Risen. Facing seemingly insurmountable odds, Owain and Inigo sent the other two ahead across a bridge before cutting it down behind them, stranding themselves on the far side. Everything seemed hopeless, and Severa found herself growing absurdly worried despite knowing there was no way that Owain and Inigo were going to die. _Gods… they act like such idiots all the time, I almost forget how brave they are. I’ll have to remember to say something nice to them later._

After a long fight, punctuated by intensely stirring music, the “angels” appeared once again, driving away the Risen and helping their sons to escape. As the scene ended, Severa suddenly realized that the play was almost over: all that remained was the final battle against Grima, and the part that she had played in it. She shut her eyes tightly. _I’m not ready for this…_

She felt a hand on her own shoulder, and opened her eyes to see Lucina smiling encouragingly at her. “Hey, don’t take a nap now! We’re almost to your big moment!”

Severa laughed, quietly and nervously. “Heh. Right, wouldn’t want to miss that.”

The beginning of the scene was just as she remembered it: the actress playing her entered, flanked by Laurent and Gerome, and presented the Fire Emblem to Lucina with a speech far more flowery than she remembered. The Exalt’s actress responded with an equally long monologue, detailing how now that the Emblem was in their hands, they were on the path to saving the world. However, it was not long before a massive figure, shrouded in black, appeared as if out of nowhere and spoke in a deep rumble.

> **GRIMA  
>  ** _“Child of the mortal race,_  
>  _You know not the power you face.  
>  _ _Cling to false hope if you must:  
>  _ _Soon your dreams shall turn to dust.”_

_Taking a bit more artistic license, I see…_ Severa thought. The vessel of Grima she remembered had been a woman with a slight build, not the behemoth on stage. Still, she had to admit that the effect was rather imposing: the actor playing Grima—she thought it was Malcolm under the cowl, but wasn’t completely certain—towered over everyone else on stage by a good head.

Severa heard a loud rushing above, and there were screams from the audience as a massive black shape descended on the stage, eyes glowing red with bloodlust. Severa was close to leaping to her feet before she realized it was only Minerva, the wyvern’s familiar form distorted by a crown of horns. The wyvern raised her head to the sky and roared in time with “Grima’s” booming laughter.

" _On guard, foul beast! You'll have to go through me!"_ There was a flurry of movement onstage, dyed red hair dancing like flame, as the Severa in the play placed herself directly in front of the figure of Grima, eyes flashing determination. “ _Lucina, run! I’ll handle things from here!”_

The Exalt on stage cried out, extending a hand towards her friend. “ _But Severa—_ ”

“ _Don’t argue! Get away!”_

Grima loomed tall over her, but the Severa on stage stood unafraid. In her right hand, she held her sword, point towards the enemy; her left was outstretched to one side, warning Lucina back. She spoke in a ringing voice, words of unbelievable courage that the real Severa could scarcely believe were based on her own.

> **SEVERA  
>  ** _“I’m not a knight, but I can still protect you!_  
>  _My mother and my father served your house  
>  _ _Until their dying breath, and so shall I.”_
> 
> **LUCINA  
>  ** “ _Don’t do it! If you fight him now, you’ll die!_ ”
> 
> **SEVERA  
>  ** _“My life and loyalty are mine to give.  
>  _ _I’ll give my life, if by my death you live.”_

Laurent and Gerome stepped up behind Severa, mute but determined. The Fell Dragon’s vessel let out another long, booming laugh, punctuated by a roar from Minerva. He extended both hands, and shadows seemed to rise behind him like a cloak.

> **GRIMA  
>  ** _“Foolish humans, come, and die.  
>  _ _Bid your friends a last good-bye.”_

He raised his hand, and the darkness reared up like a wave, about to crash down upon the lone figure opposing him. Suddenly, however, the wave dissipated, thrown back by a flash of light that left Severa blinking and disoriented. The angels had arrived again, and this time they assailed the Fell Dragon, light against shadow. Voices rang out in a triumphant hymn as the otherworldly figures hemmed in the Fell Dragon with blades that shone with a light of their own, and rose to a crescendo as the rest of the Shepherds appeared behind Lucina, the Gemstones glowing in their hands.

The Exalt stepped forward, raising the Falchion to re-enact the Awakening.

> **LUCINA  
>  ** _O Naga, hear me in my hour of need!_  
>  _I bear with me your sacred covenant’s proof!  
>  _ _With fire, baptize me: make me your true daughter,  
>  _ _And grant me strength to strike this evil down!_

Severa felt goosebumps rise on her arms as she remembered the way that Lucina’s voice had rang out on that day, all those months ago. _The actress can try all she wants, but she’ll never match the passion that was in Lucina’s voice that day. Still, it’s not_ that _bad, I suppose…_ Blue flames—doubtless some device of Laurent’s wizardry—erupted from the stage, drawing awed exclamations from the crowd as the Exalt leapt forward and struck. Grima, screaming in impotent rage, fell, his “corpse” borne away by the hands of the otherworldly warriors. The battle was over.

Once again, the lights dimmed, leaving Owain standing alone once again. His voice gentle, he began his final speech.

> **OWAIN  
>  ** _“By Naga’s power, the Dragon was defeated,_  
>  _Its victims avenged by the Exalt’s hand._  
>  _Tonight, we praise the memories of those_  
>  _Who taught us all that hope will never die._  
>  _Our hard-won future, built on sacrifice,_  
>  _We’ll evermore defend, from age to age._  
>  _From now, whatever cruel fate may portend,_  
>  _We’ll fight on, and achieve a happy end.  
>  _ _Let all rejoice: by Naga we’ve been blessed.  
>  _ _We have, at last, our long-deserved rest.”_

The cast stepped forward, bowing as one. As the lights faded away, the audience erupted into cheers. To her own surprise, Severa was the first on her feet.

\---

It took quite some time for the hubbub to die down, but Lucina and Severa eventually managed to make their way behind the screens to join the cast. Owain, flushed with success, wrapped both of them into a crushing hug the moment that they arrived. “Did you see that? _Did you see that?!_ ”

“Yes, Owain, we were in the front row,” said Severa dryly.

“They _loved_ it!” he said, flowery speech forgotten in his euphoria. “Like, really loved it! I can’t believe…I never thought that it would really be that much of a success…”

“Wait, _what_?” said Inigo, tugging at the neckline of his shirt to cool off. “But you said the exact opposite of that during the whole rehearsal process!”

“Now what th’hell would ya say somethin’ like that for?” said Brady simultaneously. “Weren’t you the jackfart who was going on about how this was going to be an experience like no other?”

“Well, uh, that could be taken in multiple ways…” said Owain with a nervous laugh.

“Why, you—” said Brady.

“Now then, leave the poor man be. Let him savor his moment of triumph.” Laurent stepped in, an unusually broad grin on his face. “I’d say that you’ve all earned the right to some self-congratulation.”

“Well, I mean, we haven’t gotten the full review from the audience,” said Owain. He turned to Lucina with eager eyes, the movement echoed by both Brady and Inigo. “So? What did you think?”

“It was… incredible,” said Lucina.

“…and?”

The Exalt blushed. “I… um… I’m having trouble gathering my thoughts right now…”

“Because you were _totally_ blown away, right?” said Inigo, grinning broadly.

“I… guess so?”

Owain scratched the back of his neck. “Incredible. Huh. That’s… not a lot to build on.”

“What do you mean?” said Lucina, puzzled.

“I was thinking more along the lines of…” He snapped his fingers. “Ah, I know. _Severa._ ”

Severa blinked. “What?”

“You know…” Owain waved a hand vaguely.

“No, I don’t know.”

“What, you ain’t got anything to say?” said Brady, scrunching his nose. “Nothin’?”

“No criticisms, no concerns?”

“Oh.” Severa crossed her arms huffily. “Why is it that you always assume that I’ll find fault with everything? I’m not always looking for reasons to dislike things, you know…”

“…but you _do_ have some things you want to say, right?” said Inigo, his tone wheedling. Severa rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, _fine._ If you insist.”

All three young men simultaneously beamed in triumph. _Gods, what weirdos…_

“I guess, first off, I was kind of confused by the whole angel thing you had going on,” she said, pointing over their shoulders to where Jun’yi, his hair gathered into a tightly wound knot, was pulling off bits of the blindingly white costume.

“Oh, yeah, that,” said Owain. “Two reasons, actually. Number one is that it meant we could make a bunch of identical costumes.”

“It was easier to sew from a single pattern,” Gerome supplied.

“And secondly…” Inigo frowned. “I guess… because it was easier to explain than the truth. Easier just to say that it was Naga watching over us.”

“If I hadn’t seen Ma and my old man myself, I’d think it was all a big fat lie,” said Brady.

“And as incredible as it was to see our parents in their prime… well, no substantial proof remains, anyway,” said Laurent. He shook his head. “Although I disapprove of such dramatic devices as _deus ex machina_ on principle, Owain and I agreed that couching the whole business in metaphor would make the subject matter much more accessible to a wider audience.”

Severa, as satisfied as she was likely to be with that explanation, nodded. “Right. On to number two, then. The ending seemed a bit… rushed. Like everything happened at once. Especially that last speech.”

Five pairs of eyes immediately went to Owain, who grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, the last speech is… still somewhat unrefined?”

“He rewrote the damn thing ten times,” Brady muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

“Most recently, this morning,” Inigo added.

“It is fortunate that he was the one who had to memorize it,” said Laurent, straightening his glasses ominously. “Another actor would not have been nearly as forgiving.”

There was a long pause, which Owain tentatively broke. “So… anything else?”

 _Why was I the only one who spoke up in defense of Lucina?_ Severa shook her head. That was dangerous ground for her to tread, especially with Lucina right next to her. She might slip up, and admit more than she meant to. “…Nothing that I can think of, at the moment.”

“We should probably go meet the people,” said Inigo. “You know, to let them congratulate us properly.”

Owain grabbed Lucina by the arm, his customary aplomb returning. “Come, my Exalted cousin! The adulation of the masses awaits us beyond yon stage: we must not leave them waiting!”

As the others moved off, Severa leaned against the side of the stage with a sigh. _I guess they forgot about me… makes sense, I suppose. They have better things to be excited about…_

“Severa?”

She yelped involuntarily and glared in the direction of the call. “ _Gods_ , Lucina, would it kill you to sneak around less?”

“Sneaking around? I didn’t think that’s what I was doing…”

“Well, what _were_ you doing then?”

Lucina coughed awkwardly into one hand. “Gerome pointed out that you hadn’t joined the rest of us, so I thought I’d come look for you.”

Severa glanced over her shoulder, towards where Owain and his fellow Shepherds were being quickly enveloped in a laughing crowd. “I don’t really like being around lots of people, that’s all.”

“Severa…” The Exalt’s tone was disapproving, almost accusatory. “There’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

 _There are a lot of something elses bothering me. Would you like them alphabetically, or chronologically?_ She sighed. _Well, at least there’s_ one _that I can admit to._ “I just… I feel like they gave me too much credit. Like defending you was all my idea. I’m nowhere near the hero they made me out to be. Not like my parents were.”

Lucina raised a hand to cover her mouth, her shoulders moving slightly. At first, Severa thought that she was coughing again, but a moment later the princess let out a small noise of amusement.

 _She’s_ laughing _at me?!_ “Hey, what’s so funny?” Severa demanded, clenching her fists. “I’m being serious, you idiot!”

“Sorry…” said Lucina, biting her lip. “But Severa—it _was_ your idea. You were the first one who stepped in between me and the dragon. You _are_ a hero. If you don’t believe me, I’m sure that there are _plenty_ of people out there who would be glad to back me up.”

“I…” Severa, at a loss for words, stared at the ground.

“Severa…” The Exalt sighed, shaking her head. “Forgive me. I should not have… mocked you, as I did. I sometimes forget that my advice is not always welcome.”

“It’s not… it’s not that,” said Severa.

Lucina’s tone grew gentler. “Severa, do you remember what you told me when we spoke two nights ago?”

Severa thought back. “Not exactly.”

“You told me that before I was anyone’s child, I was my own person.” Lucina smiled. “Hearing that meant so much to me… it helped me come to a realization that I never would have found on my own. So I want to help you the way that you helped me.”

Her eyes stung, and Severa distantly realized that she was tearing up. She hurriedly scrubbed the tears away with her sleeve, laughing softly. “I guess I’m the idiot, aren’t I?”

“If you say so.” The Exalt shrugged. “But can you do me a favor?”

Severa raised her eyebrows. “That depends.”

Lucina nodded toward the adoring audience. “Come with me. Just for a little while. They’re waiting for us.”

“They’re waiting for _you_ ,” Severa said.

“They want to see you just as much as they want to see me,” Lucina corrected her. “Maybe more.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous…”

“Remember what I said, Severa? You’re a hero: the hero who stood at the Exalt’s side, and saved her life.” She held out her hand. “So come with me, and let’s be heroes together.”

Severa blushed, letting out a somewhat derisive laugh. “You sound like Cynthia trying to flirt.” She regretted her choice of words immediately. _Flirt? Idiot! Why did I say that?_

Lucina went crimson as well. “I… I assure you, that’s not what I was trying to—”

“Take it easy, I’m just teasing you,” said Severa. She took Lucina’s hand, “Don’t worry, Lucina, I’ll come with you.”

The princess brushed back her hair with her free hand, a self-conscious gesture. “Thank you, Severa.”

“Anytime.”

Hand in hand, the two heroes walked out to meet their admirers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Severa! I got this done just in time, though formatting it was hell, and there were several false starts involved...
> 
> A couple miscellaneous notes on the text: the majority of the dialogue is written in blank verse (unrhymed iambic pentameter, i.e. Shakespeare's style). I also borrowed Shakespeare's technique of using different meter and stress to emphasize otherworldly creatures, so the few lines of Grima's that I wrote are in trochic (reversed stress), and have fewer beats per line (I based _that_ off of the witches from a certain Scottish play).
> 
> As always, comments are appreciated! (And the tumblr post for this chapter is [here](http://occasionallydiverting.tumblr.com/post/137790467021/secret-dreamer-chapter-15), if you're the sharing type!)


	16. Downhearted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the final day of the Festival approaching, Severa struggles once again with memories of the past.

“So, Sevvy, what are _you_ going to wear?”

Severa blinked blearily across the dinner table. “…what?”

Cynthia giggled. “Sheesh, are you asleep already? I asked you what you were going to wear tomorrow!”

 _I might as well be. It’s not fair for her to have as much energy as she does…_ Severa sighed. “For Noire’s birthday, you mean?”

“No!” Cynthia paused. “Well, yes, that too, but not what I meant.”

“What _did_ you mean, then?

“Tomorrow’s the last day of the festival, and dressing up is a tradition!” Cynthia waved a finger. “Don’t you remember, back when we were kids?”

Severa shrugged. “I mean, I guess so.” Dressing up as mythical heroes was something that she had enjoyed when she was younger, but as with many other things, she considered herself to have grown out of it.

“Well, now that we’re older, we can pick out our own costumes!” She grinned broadly. “I’ve been reading some old books of my mother’s, and I have all _kinds_ of ideas. There was a pegasus knight in one of them who was beautiful and graceful and had _gorgeous_ green hair—”

“Your hair isn’t green.”

“Well, _obviously._ ” Cynthia brushed off that mere formality with her usual flippancy and pressed forward. “But Laurent said that he’s willing to lend some of the tomes that he used for the costumes in the play—you know, the ones that changed up the color of the other Shepherds’ hair, so they could pretend to be us.” She leaned forward eagerly. “So what are you going to be?”

A memory came unbidden to Severa’s mind: _her mother gently helping to work her hair into a single long braid, her father handing her a toy axe he’d carved himself and smiling as she brandished it._

She pushed it away. _There’s no use dwelling on the past._ “I hadn’t really thought about it,” she said aloud, her tone curt.

“Well, you’d better start thinking about it, and quick!” said Cynthia. “After all, tomorrow comes more quickly than you think!”

“You don’t have to tell me that.” Severa’s jaw tightened slightly, and she gave Cynthia a terse nod. “I should head off. Lots to do in the morning.”

Cynthia grinned and waggled her fingers in a wave. “Later, Sevvy!”

Picking up her plate, Severa headed over to the counter to drop it off. Once that was done, she headed in the direction of her room.

She walked down the hall—

_She’d skipped between her parents, twirling around to let her braid—as red as her mother’s hair—whip back and forth. Every detail of her costume was exactly as it had been in the stories: the matchless paladin who had ridden at the Radiant Hero’s side through all of his journeys. Cordelia had worked on it for days until it met her exhaustive standards: “Only the best for my daughter,” she’d said._

The heels of her boots clacked on the floor. She passed the practice ground, nodding tersely at the greetings of the recruits practicing their javelin throws—

_A prize for one of the carnival games had caught her eye, and Frederick had offered to win it for her, but she’d insisted on doing it herself. She remembered trying again and again to hit the target, her father’s steady hand on her shoulder and his kind smile as he gave her advice on how to go about it. Both her parents had clapped and cheered when she finally succeeded and claimed her rightful spoils._

Through the garden—

_As they made their way home, Severa had chattered happily, already making plans for what costume she’d wear the next year. Cordelia had laughed and promised to sew her anything she wanted._

_Her father had died that summer. She hadn’t gone to a harvest festival since._

Severa stopped walking.

She leaned against the railing of the colonnade and bowed her head, feeling the warmth of tears on her cheeks. _Father… Mother… I miss you both so much._

Through the tears blurring her eyes, Severa didn’t notice the approach of another person until it was too late. She heard the newcomer’s voice before she saw their face, and felt her heart leap into her mouth. “Are you all right, Severa?”

“L-Lucina?!” Severa hurriedly dashed a sleeve across her eyes, though she knew it was far too late to hide the fact that she had been crying. “I didn’t mean for you to—”

“—didn’t mean for me to see you,” Lucina finished. “I thought you’d say something like that.”

“Have I really gotten that predictable?”

“I wouldn’t say _predictable_ ,” said Lucina, “so much as that I’ve gotten to know you very well.”

Severa laughed weakly. “That’s just a polite way of saying predictable.”

Lucina smiled and shrugged. “Maybe so.” She moved to lean against the railing beside Severa. The princess kept some distance between them: a choice that both relieved and frustrated Severa. _I’m glad that she’s trying to respect my feelings, but at the same time, I wish the two of us were closer…_

“So, is it something you want to talk about?” Lucina kept her voice soft and her eyes forward, as if she was addressing one of the flowerbeds and Severa only happened to be listening in. “I know that you prefer to work through things on your own sometimes, but I thought I’d offer.”

“It’s just…Severa let out a long sigh, shaking her head. “Just, this whole thing. All this celebration doesn’t seem fair, you know?”

The Exalt seemed puzzled by that. “What do you mean?”

“Sure, we won, against all the odds, and we deserve to cut loose a little. But the ones who really deserve to celebrate, can’t.” She ruthlessly pressed down a lump in her throat and continued on. “They’re not with us anymore.”

“Ah. I understand.” Lucina’s hand moved to touch Severa’s, just for a moment. It was only a glancing touch, feather-light, and the Exalt’s hand quickly receded, but Severa was incredibly grateful for the moment of contact.

Thoughts chased each other through Severa’s head, one after another. She thought back to the last real battle that the two of them had fought: Risen surrounding them on all sides, the stench of carrion heavy in the air. Pain exploding through her like a red-hot lance as Grima’s spell took its toll. Her defiant, suicidal stand against Grima. And then the light, and the reappearance of faces that she’d never thought to see again…

Her father, steady and strong as he had always been, fighting his way to her side and shielding her from the enemy. Her mother, typically beautiful and perfect, clearing a path for her daughter to retreat. _Both_ her parents, alive again, in their prime, and this time just as unstoppable as Severa’s younger self had naively believed them to be. But all the same…

“Nothing can bring the dead back to life,” she found herself saying. “Not truly.”

“Not truly,” echoed Lucina.

Severa’s thoughts went to her father’s lonely grave. “We couldn’t have done any of this without them,” she said quietly. “But they never got to see any of it. They never will.”

Lucina shook her head, but didn’t say anything.

“And I keep thinking that I’ve come to terms with that. That it’s already hurt me so much, there’s no way that it will be able to hurt me any more. But then I catch myself thinking of them, or remembering something we did together, and it hits me again that they’re never coming back. They’re gone for good.” Severa let out a short bark of laughter, harsh and self-mocking. “I should really know better by now, shouldn’t I?”

“Severa…”

“Is it like that for you, Lucina?” There was a hint of a plea in Severa’s voice.

The Exalt’s hands tightened on the railing. “Yes. Some things never get easier. Ever since…” She tucked a lock of blue hair behind her ear, looking down into the flowers. “Of late, it has worsened. Seeing my father again—if you can even call what we saw while fighting Grima the real him—it brought back everything that I felt losing him for the first time.” She met Severa’s eyes, sadness and sympathy written plainly on her face. “I imagine that the others feel the same.”

Severa realized that Lucina was right. It was all too clear, looking back: Kjelle’s listlessness over the end of the war, the almost imperceptible sadness in Noire’s eyes when she spoke of her parents’ spellbook. _What was it like for Brady to play the violin, or for Inigo to dance, after all the time they shared with their parents? Every time someone calls Yarne the “last taguel,” they’re reminding him of his mother’s death—how much must that hurt him?_

She gritted her teeth into an expression that might have generously been called a smile. “Gods… of course you’re right.” Severa shook her head. “You’re absolutely right, and I’ve just been too self-centered to bother noticing.”

“I wouldn’t say—” began Lucina. Severa waved a hand, her smile shifting from bitter to rueful.

“All right, fine, I’ll say _distracted_ instead of _self-centered_ if it makes you feel better.”

Lucina returned the smile without a hint of self-consciousness. “Good.”

Severa pushed off from the railing, letting out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry for dropping all of this on you out of the blue.”

“You don’t need—”

“—to apologize,” said Severa. “Yeah, I know, but I felt like it anyway.”

The Exalt chuckled softly. “Am I the predictable one now?”

“Or I’ve gotten to know you very well.” Severa winked. “We’ve had quite a few similar conversations in the past, after all.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Anyway, thanks for listening to me.”

“That’s what friends are for.” Lucina gravely met Severa’s eyes. “If there’s ever anything you want to talk about— _anything_ —I want you to know that you can talk to me about it, all right?”

 _Anything, huh?_ Severa’s eyes flicked down to the _tsubaki_ pendant Lucina was wearing for the barest moment before returning to the princess’s face. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She rolled her shoulders, yawning. “It’s getting late… we should probably turn in soon if we want to be awake enough for Noire’s party tomorrow.”

“Good point.” Lucina stood back from the railing as well, nodding to Severa. “Goodnight, Severa.”

“Goodnight, Lucina.” As the princess began to walk past her, Severa’s pulse quickened. _It’s just the two of us here… this could be my chance to tell her how I… I…_

“What was that?”

Severa snapped out of her thoughts to find Lucina looking curiously towards her. _Did I say something out loud?_

She forced a smile. “I… hope you sleep well.”

Lucina smiled back, without any of Severa’s pretense. “You, too.”

And moments later, she was gone.

Severa looked out over the flowerbeds and let out a long breath. _Well, there goes another chance. I can’t say I’m surprised by my own ability to mess these things up._

_Lucina was right on more than one account: some things never get easier._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O-KAY! At long, _long_ last, the next chapter is here. That's the most important bit, even if it isn't quite up to the same length as the last few. Spread the love for the update [on tumblr](https://occasionallydiverting.tumblr.com/post/143230679156/secret-dreamer-chapter-16), if you're so inclined! Lengthy Arvanion life update to follow.
> 
> In the three months since I last updated _Secret Dreamer_ I have done a considerable number of things, including but not limited to:  
>  \- moving to a new city (and getting all of my personal belongings arranged in my new home)  
> \- searching for a job in said new city, which I have discovered is a long and exquisitely painful process  
> \- participating in a fic exchange (my entry, [_As She Wished_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6225856), is a modern-AU Lucisev piece, which might be of some interest to the readers here)  
>  \- buying _Fire Emblem: Fates_ and playing through all three routes  
>  \- starting a _Fates_ ficlet collection as a creative outlet for all my shipping/feels, which can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6145449/chapters/14080431) (or in thirty-three different places on [my tumblr](http://occasionallydiverting.tumblr.com))
> 
> and last, but certainly not least
> 
> \- getting honest-to-god, real-life married. Which, as you can imagine, does tend to drive other things out of one's mind.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience, and I hope that you continue to enjoy the chapters whenever they come out!


	17. Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noire’s birthday falls on the height of the festival, and the Shepherds are determined to make it a day to remember.

Severa adjusted her hat and smiled. “So, what do you think?”

Beaming broadly, Cynthia clapped her hands in delight. “It’s _awesome_ , Sevvy! Wow!”

The older girl smirked in triumph. “Of course it is. What did you expect?”

Despite not having planned ahead, Severa was quite proud of the costume she’d managed to pull together over the course of the morning. The base layer was everyday clothing: plain leather boots, light-colored breeches, and a white shirt. Over that went a black coat with elbow-length sleeves, artfully worn-out and reaching down to her knees. Her forearms were wrapped in strips of cloth, and a worn blade—a real weapon, not a prop—hung from a broad belt over the coat. She wore her hair unbound, and a rakish black hat completed the look—her best approximation of the clothing worn by the legendary Tempest King of Magvellian lore.

Cynthia sighed dreamily—obviously, Severa’s costume was tickling her fancy for fairy tales. “You’re like some kind of dashing hero who goes around making jokes and saving damsels in distress!” She clasped her hands together beseechingly. “Quick, say something cool!”

“All right, I’ll humor you.” Pulling a coin out of her pocket, Severa idly flipped it in one hand, dropping her voice to a self-assured drawl. “Lady Luck is on my side.”

The knight-commander giggled with glee. “Ah, this is so exciting! Your costume is amazing!”

“You don’t look too shabby yourself,” said Severa, winking. True to her word, Cynthia had borrowed one of Laurent’s costuming tomes to dye her hair bright green for the night. She’d acquired a set of white armor as well, and the result was a timeless but decidedly heroic appearance.

 _Of course, she keeps forgetting who she is…_ Cynthia had gone through nearly a half-dozen identities already—the captain of the Medonian Whitewings, a Silesian general, a Frelian commander, the Empress of Begnion’s bodyguard, and (most recently) the queen of Crimea. _I suppose that there_ are _an awful lot of green-haired pegasus knights in the old stories, after all. That’s probably why she has such a hard time keeping them straight._

“Haha, thanks!” Cynthia giggled again, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. “And once we get to the masquerade, we’re sure to see all kinds of costumes just as cool as ours!”

“Do you have any idea what the others are dressing up as?” said Severa.

“Not a clue!” the other girl replied blithely. “It’ll be fun to find out, though, won’t it? And to watch the fireworks, afterward.”

“That’s only if the weather stays clear.” There had been a brief shower of rain earlier that morning, sweeping through Ylisstol on its way to make other pastures greener. Severa very much hoped that there would be no repeat performance: the cancellation of the Harvest Festival fireworks would certainly cast a pall over the festivities.

“Sheesh, with an outlook like that you’ll bring the rainclouds down on us yourself,” said Cynthia, a teasing note in her voice.

“Yeah, whatever.” Severa settled her coat more securely over her shoulders and glanced toward the door. “The celebration will be starting soon. We should probably get going.”

Cynthia practically skipped ahead of her friend to reach the exit first. “Look out, Ylisstol! Your heroes are on their way!”

 - - -

The crowds in the streets of Ylisstol were thick enough that Severa lost track of Cynthia before ten minutes had passed. She wasn’t particularly concerned—Cynthia was sure to pop up again at the gathering they’d planned for Noire, and in the meantime it freed up Severa to take in the sights and sounds of the final day of the Festival at her leisure. She turned her steps toward the masquerade—though she wasn’t quite as overt about it as Cynthia, Severa had a considerable interest in seeing what other people were wearing.

Technically, the gathering in the grand square wasn’t a proper masquerade. Most of those present didn’t bother with masks unless their costume called for it. The variety of costumes was staggering, nonetheless—Severa saw familiar characters everywhere she looked. A barefoot girl dressed in a tight-fitting red shirt and black breeches murmured an apology as she moved out of the way, keeping the jet-black wings she wore folded neatly at her back. Two men wearing the distinctive red and green of the Bull and the Panther over the comfortable weight of middle age passed by on her right, exchanging good-natured insults. A young woman in red and yellow, wearing a dangerously short skirt and wooden rapier at her side, waved cheerfully—from her pale blue hair, Severa recognized Susanna of the Shepherds.

“That you, Sev?” Kjelle’s voice cut its way through the crowd, and Severa turned to see a few of her other friends making their way through the crowd. Kjelle and Owain took the lead, with Inigo and Brady traveling behind. Severa took a moment to take in their costumes: after all, on a day like this, such things were important.

Kjelle wore blue-and-gold armor somewhat more ornamental than her usual, with a dashing red cape slung over her shoulders and an axe in her belt. Her hair was dyed a deep blue, and brushed up into a style that made it appear even shorter. Owain’s costume was similar in coloring, but he carried a gold-painted wooden sword and his armor was lighter. His hair, also dyed blue, was secured by a headband whose loose ends flowed out behind him as he moved through the square. Inigo had kept his hair’s natural gray color, and his costume was fairly simple: a knee-length belted coat of pale blue, supplemented by a bow and quiver that looked like props from the play.

However, it was Brady’s costume that caused Severa to do a double-take. The scarred priest wore a set of wings that looked as if they might have been white at one point in the past, but the wings, along with his robes, were now spattered with mud. Even his hair was dirty, its usual blond color matted by muddy brown.

“What happened to you?” said Severa.

“I, er…” Brady ran a hand through his muddy hair, making it stand up in an even crazier-looking series of spikes. “Well, ya know, the roads were bad ‘cause of the rain today, and while I was walkin’ into town I saw a cart stuck in th’ mud, and the old folks by it didn’t look like they’d be able to dig it out themselves, so…”

“That would explain it.” Severa hid a smile, crossing her arms. “Honestly, Brady, you’re too nice for your own good. What was your costume supposed to be before you took your mud bath?”

“The Heron Prince,” Brady mumbled.

“Well, you look like the Hawk King. Not like that’s a bad thing, I guess.” Severa looked over at Kjelle. “Have you seen Cynthia around yet?”

The knight shook her head. “Can’t say I have. Who’s she going as?”

“I don’t think even _she_ knows that. But her hair’s green, so keep an eye out for that.” After a moment’s pause, she added, “The rest of you have nice costumes, by the way.”

“The quality of our raiment is far beyond _nice_ ,” Owain intoned, drumming his fingers on the golden hilt of his sword. “All those around us bask in our… radiance.”

“Was that a mythical _pun_?” Inigo grinned. “Very nicely done, Owain. Your skills are coming along nicely.”

“Don’t encourage that crap,” said Brady. “It’s bad enough with just one of ya.”

Owain wrinkled his nose. “Please, Brady, don’t stand so close. The mud on your robes is quite… _pun_ gent.”

“…I swear, I’m gonna slug ya one of these days.”

“I don’t think he deserves that kind of _pun_ ishment,” said Inigo.

“Oh, come _on_!” Brady turned to Kjelle, a pleading look on his face. “Stop those two, will ya?”

Kjelle’s eyes glinted wickedly. “Perhaps I’ll have them thrown in the _pun_ geon.”

Brady smacked his forehead with one hand as Inigo and Owain both roared with laughter. Rolling her eyes, but hiding a smile, Severa turned to go. “I’m going to leave before I’m infected with this stupidity, too.”

“Take me with you—”  
Inigo grabbed him by the muddy collar, grinning broadly. “No you don’t! You promised you’d play the violin in a tavern, and we’re not letting you out of our sight until you do.”

“Have fun!” said Severa with a cheery wave. Turning on one booted heel, she headed back into the crowd.

There was plenty to entertain her at the festival, and she moved to and fro as the fancy took her. There seemed to be performers at every corner: a black-robed man with a long and brilliantly-colored red wig juggled fireballs in midair, an appreciative crowd cheering his every move. Further down the street, a girl a few years younger than Severa, her brown hair done up in a pair of buns, danced in a swirl of pink ribbons, accompanied by a blond man with a small harp.

Near a stand set up for a target game, Severa spotted Cynthia once again: the pegasus knight commander was hurling wooden rings with considerable energy but little accuracy. Beside her was Nah—dressed in the elaborate red robes and dark-colored wig of Tellius’s Child Empress. Severa approached the pair from behind, grinning.

“So, I see that you managed to find your liege. Or is it sister ruler?” she said teasingly. “I can’t keep it straight for some reasson.”

Cynthia stuck out her tongue in response before throwing another ring—an overhand throw that sailed completely over the prizes and bounced off the canvas behind.

“You’re not going to have much success like that,” said Nah, waving a ring of her own in reproving fashion. “You need to let it float down, like so…” She tossed the ring underhand. It fell several feet short of any of the targets, and Severa snorted.

“Maybe not like _so_.”

“Oh, hush.” Nah rolled her eyes. “I don’t see _you_ doing any better.”

“Because I’m not playing,” said Severa. She waved to the stall’s owner, a brown-haired young man in white armor and a red-lined cape. “How much to play?”

“A gold piece gets you two tosses,” he responded promptly. “Two gold gets you five. Would you like to try, miss?”

Severa, grinning, rolled up the sleeves of her coat and tossed a pair of gold pieces down on the counter. “Oh, I’ll do more than _try_.”

Five minutes later, Severa hummed contentedly as she claimed her target. Cynthia stuck out her lip with a pout. “That’s totally not fair. I was trying to win that one.”

“Cry me a river,” said Severa, grinning and winking as she squeezed her prize: a stuffed pegasus, just small enough to fit into her knapsack.

“You’re really going with that?” said Nah, her tone dubious.

Severa stuck out her tongue. “Yeah. Anything wrong with that?”

The manakete shrugged. “Dunno, it just seems a little odd for you.”

“It’s cute!” said Severa in a tone of injured dignity. She hugged the stuffed pegasus closer. “And besides, I used to have one just like it.”

“Did you win that one at a carnival, too?”

Severa remembered the proud looks on her parents’ faces and smiled. “Yeah, I did.”

“Hey, do you two want to get some food?” said Cynthia, a hopeful note in her voice. “Because boy, am I hungry.”

“I knew that already,” said Nah. “Your stomach was rumbling pretty much the entire time you were tossing rings.”

Cynthia’s cheeks went pink, and she looked dismayed. “You heard that?”

“I’ve got good ears.”

“There’s a stand just off the main square that served pork, potatoes, and cornbread,” Severa offered. “Lucina and I went there earlier this week, and it was pretty good.”

Cynthia nodded several times in a row, smacking her fist into her palm. “That sounds like exactly the sort of thing I need to give me the strength to continue fighting for justice!”

“Is that what you call missing the targets now?” said Nah dryly.

“Stop being so mean…”

It took the trio a while to reach the food stand, given the considerable line, but at last they stepped away laden with their lunches. They were making their way to a table when someone jostled Severa’s elbow, almost making her drop the food. “Hey, watch it!” she said, glaring in the direction of the offender.

“Uhh, sorry about that…” The bare-chested young man who had bumped her bobbed his head in an apology, steadying the mugs he held in either hand. Severa noted that his costume was decidedly second-rate: sandals, an orange hip-cloak, and white pants that looked like they’d seen better days. His wolf-tail and ears still had bits of glue sticking to them, and the painted-on tattoos on his arms were rather haphazard. Still, there was something familiar about him.

She blinked. “ _Yarne_?”

The taguel’s eyes widened, and he lowered his voice to a hiss. “Keep your voice down! Don’t give away my position.”

Nah covered up a laugh with one hand. “Oh, this is too good.”

“Your costume is—” began Cynthia, frowning.

“Really bad, I know. It was Laurent’s idea.” Yarne grinned. “He said that people would be unlikely to suspect me if I was wearing ears and a tail that were so obviously fake.”

“Those are your real ears, Yarne.”

“Yeah, but they have glue on them, so they don’t _look_ real.”

“How do you plan on getting the glue out?” said Nah.

“I… uh.”

“Very painfully, probably.”

“Yeah, probably.” Yarne sighed. “Still, it’s worth it to have the chance to walk around with Noire.”

“Where is she, anyway?” said Severa.

“Holding a table for us. We might be able to squeeze you three in, if you want.”

“Just show us the way!” said Cynthia.

Yarne led them through the crowd to a far corner of the square, where a trio of people were already seated. Noire rose as Yarne approached, sidling past the other two to plant a kiss on her boyfriend’s cheek and relieve him of one of the mugs. She smiled at the others. “Nice to see you.”

“You, too. Happy birthday.”

“Your costume’s a lot better than Yarne’s,” said Cynthia bluntly, setting her plate down.

Noire blushed. “Uh, thanks.”

She really did look good, Severa thought: a flowing robe of tan, maroon, and gold-trimmed black, complete with a bushy white tail and wolf ears, proclaimed her friend to be the Wolf Queen of the Desert. The look was completed by neat, swirling patterns painted on her arms and lower legs, and a cloth bandage draped over one eye.

“Enjoying the last day?” Laurent, his glasses replaced by a monocle and the usual plain gray of his robes changed to richly ornamented green and black, toyed with the handle of a cane as he spoke.

“So far, yeah.” Severa turned to the last person at the table: a blond man in a high-collared black coat, his hair neatly brushed back.

“Uh, who are you?” said Cynthia, voicing exactly what Severa was thinking.

The man toyed with a white mask in his hands. It wasn’t until he held it up in front of his eyes that everything clicked. “ _Gerome?!_ ” Cynthia gasped.

“About time you figured that out,” said Gerome, smirking.

“It was hard enough to recognize you without your mask,” said Severa. “But now you’re changing your hairstyle, too?”

“Lots of people do that. And it’s only for tonight, anyway.” He set the mask down on the table. “Besides, isn’t the idea to change up the way we look?”

“I suppose so.”

“Speaking of which, have you seen Lucina anywhere?” Laurent looked at Severa as he spoke.

“Now that you mention it, no.” Severa took a bite of her food, chewing thoughtfully. “All I know is that she dismissed her guards this morning—I suppose that she wanted to be able to take in the sights of the festival without being immediately recognized.”

“Maybe she should take lessons from Gerome,” said Cynthia.

The wyvern rider coughed halfway through a sip of ale, regaining his composure in time to remark, “It’s not my fault you have no idea what my face looks like.”

“Technically, it _is_ your fault,” said Laurent, smiling. “The mask did obscure quite a bit of your face.”

Gerome sighed. “I suppose you have a point there.”

The conversation moved on to other topics, but Severa felt like she was missing something. _Is it just me, or did Gerome seem awfully evasive about that?_

_\- - -_

She was still mulling it over as she finished up her meal and excused herself, promising to see them all again later that night for Noire’s party.

As Severa headed off, she felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. _I’m being watched. Another pickpocket, perhaps?_ Concealing her unease, she began surreptitiously scanning the area.

In the street ahead of her, a red-robed man with long brown hair was performing an elaborate series of sword forms. A trio of girls dressed as the Whitewing Sisters stood nearby, arguing about whether his costume was inspired by the Elibian or the Archanean sagas. None of them fit the profile of her mystery watcher.

Severa kept her eyes on the swordsman as she walked past, using that as an excuse to glance back over her shoulder. For the most part, the people behind her seemed like ordinary citizens. There was one person, however, who stood out: a slender young man in the regalia of the Hero-King Marth, his upper face covered by a butterfly-shaped mask with gilded edges and a Falchion swinging at his side. Unlike most of the civilians around him, he moved with a predator’s effortless grace, slipping through the crowded streets without being jostled or rushed.

Suspicious, Severa increased her pace ever so slightly. The false Marth did the same, subtly pacing her, not letting the distance between them widen by more than a hairsbreadth. She felt her pulse quicken and hurriedly turned her face forward again, not wanting to give herself away. _He’s definitely watching me. Who is he?_ She squinted at her footpad’s swordbelt. _Wait, hold on… that’s not_ a _Falchion. It’s_ the _Falchion._

A slow smile came to her face. _So Gerome_ was _hiding something. Lending a mask to Lucina so she could move around unnoticed, huh?_

She chuckled to herself. _Well, let her think I haven’t noticed her yet. I’ll give her a surprise._

Severa stopped in front of a stand selling earrings, idly looking over the various products laid out there. The proprieter, a blond woman with a white feather ornament in her hair, was eager to respond to Severa’s request to try on a pair. Severa used it as an excuse to look in the stand’s mirror, adjusting it to scan the street behind her. Lucina had moved closer now that Severa was stopped, and was quickly closing the distance.

Smiling brightly, she turned around just as Lucina reached her. “What do you think of these earrings, Your Majesty?”

The disguised Exalt’s mouth dropped open. “How did you—?”

“You’re quite the actress, but don’t think you can fool me so easily,” said Severa, winking. “Granted, your disguise is better than it was when you checked in on the recruits, but still.” She thumbed one of the earrings, winking at Lucina. “So, what about my question? I’m trying to figure out if I should buy them.”

“I’m no expert on fashion, but I suppose I could give an opinion.” Lucina crossed her arms, right hand going up to stroke her chin thoughtfully. Severa found herself embarrassed by the princess’s scrutiny. _I hadn’t expected her to be quite so… intent._

After a moment, Lucina smiled. “I think they suit you very well.”

“I wasn’t asking how they looked on _me_ ,” said Severa, blushing.

Lucina looked puzzled. “Didn’t you just say you were thinking of buying them?”

“Yes, but not for myself,” said Severa. “I thought these might make a nice present for Noire.”

“Oh.” The Exalt looked again, somewhat more impersonally, and nodded. “Yes, I believe that they would.”

“That’s good enough for me,” said Severa with a smile, waving to get the stall owner’s attention.

A few coins changed hands, and soon the earrings were tucked away in a small box next to the stuffed pegasus. As the two made their way down the street, Severa turned to Lucina.

“Why exactly were you following me around, anyway?”

“Kjelle told me that you had a run-in with a pickpocket earlier in the week,” said Lucina. “So I wanted to keep an eye on you, just in case.”

“For a second there, I thought _you_ were a pickpocket,” Severa responded, smiling ruefully.

“I guess I was acting quite suspicious.”

“Thank you for thinking of me, though,” said Severa. “It’s nice to know that you’re still watching my back, even with everything over.”

Lucina laughed quietly. “Think of it as returning the favor. You’ve looked out for me all this time, after all.” There was the barest hint of a blush under her mask as she spoke.

“It feels kind of weird having the Exalt guard me, but I suppose fair is fair.”

“Good, I’m glad that’s settled.” Lucina gave Severa a slight bow, pitching her voice slightly lower in a would-be dramatic tone. “Shall we move on, Your Majesty?”

Severa matched her Exalt’s theatrics with a flourish. “Yes, Your Majesty, I think we shall.”

For the next few hours, the two “kings” made their way through the capital’s streets. This time, however, it was Severa who got the stares—her distinctive red hair marking her as the pegasus knight sub-commander. Lucina, a taciturn presence at her friend’s side, seemed to enjoy not being the center of attention for once.

As the sun made its way downward, the pair finally turned their steps back toward the castle courtyard. Noire’s party was set to begin at sunset, and neither of them wanted to be late. Zoe, dressed in a Silesian knight’s uniform that wasn’t particularly different from her normal attire, waved them through listlessly, mumbling a greeting to Severa and ignoring Lucina entirely. S _he doesn’t recognize her Exalt? I suppose that Gerome may have given some helpful advice. Nobody recognizes him without a mask, but nobody recognizes Lucina_ with _one._

They arrived in the garden to find most of the others already there. Owain waved to them, grinning broadly. “Ah, our noble company is nearly assembled in full!”

“Who’s missing yet?” said Severa.

“Just Yarne,” said Inigo. “And Noire herself, of course. We wouldn’t dream of beginning the festivities without her.”

“Five gold says those lovebirds lost track of the time,” said Kjelle.

Laurent smiled. “It seems more than likely.”

“Fine by me. Gives us more time to practice,” said Brady.

Cynthia raised a hand. “Uh, what exactly are we practicing?”

The forbidding priest raised his violin pointedly. “Well, we’ve gotta sing her a happy birthday, obviously.”

“Did we plan this?” said Kjelle.

“I’m plannin’ it now. And I wanna make sure we do it proper.”

“A music rehearsal, eh? My vocal chords twitch!”

Nah poked Owain in the side. “Don’t you start.”

Brady drew his bow over the strings, nodding to himself. “Right. Inigo, start ‘er off.”

Inigo smiled broadly, lifting his hands. “And-a one, and-a two…”

Their voices rang out in a ragged chorus. Cynthia’s warbling soprano, Kjelle’s deep contralto, Owain’s off-key tenor, Gerome’s growling bass—as a group, they weren’t particularly good singers, but what they lacked in talent they made up for in enthusiasm. Brady pronounced their performance “good enough” as the last lopsided chord cut off. “Though I wouldn’t say you’re ready for a concert just yet.”

As the others dispersed—Cynthia wandering off in the direction of the gates, Brady crouching to admire the flowerbeds—Severa saw Lucina surreptitiously lift her mask, wiping at her eyes. She gave the Exalt a sidelong glance. “Something on your mind?”

“I was just thinking about how wonderful it is… to be able to sing with everyone like this.” Lucina smiled. “It’s more than I ever could have hoped for.”

Hurriedly blinking away the tears in her own eyes, Severa smiled back. “Well, don’t cry too much, or you won’t be able to sing. We wouldn’t want that.”

“You have a point, there.”

Cynthia burst back into the garden, green-dyed hair bobbing behind her. “Guys, they’re coming! Everyone get ready!”

Inigo stepped forward, grinning. “All right, everyone, just like we practiced—”

“—hopefully better than we practiced—”

“—shush, Gerome. And-a one, and-a two…”

Noire and Yarne came to a surprised halt at the courtyard entrance as a burst of song assailed them. Their incredulous smiles grew as they took in their assembled friends, and when the last notes of the song split the air asunder, both of them burst into delighted applause. “I didn’t expect you to sing for my birthday.”

“To be fair, none of us expected to sing either,” said Kjelle.

“Still, it was a pleasant change of plan,” said Laurent. He smiled. “Now then, shall we begin?”

Noire giggled. “Sure.”

The party lasted well into the evening—an evening filled with conversation and laughter, along with the best food the castle kitchens had to offer. At the end of the meal, full and content, Severa leaned back in her chair and looked up at the sky, letting the conversations of her friends wash over her as fireworks of every color flashed with their brilliant light. _Just like Lucina said: it’s everything we ever could have hoped for._

But deep within her heart, a nagging voice whispered, _You had hoped for more than this._

And try as she might, when Severa heard Lucina’s laughter, she couldn’t deny the truth in those words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After many trials and travails, the latest chapter is here. With this, I've broken 50,000 words on this fic! *blasts confetti cannon*
> 
> This chapter is jampacked with references to previous _Fire Emblem_ games, but I've taken the liberty of putting together a cheat sheet with references for each character appearing in the chapter. You can find it [over on tumblr.](https://occasionallydiverting.tumblr.com/post/145329336406/secret-dreamer-chapter-17)
> 
> If you have any comments, criticisms, predictions, laments, or any other sort of reaction, toss it in! Until then, happy reading!


	18. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Inigo and Brady's group departs for Plegia, Severa's thoughts turn to other matters.

“…make sure that you set proper watches every night. Keep good track of your provisions, but don’t let yourselves go hungry either. The money we’re providing should be enough to re-supply whenever you need to, as long as it doesn’t get wasted. Speaking of which, don’t let Inigo anywhere near the money. He’d just spend it on stupid stuff. And—”

“At least pause to breathe, Miss Severa,” said Paula quietly, amusement evident in her voice. “You don’t need to worry about us so much.” Renee nodded in agreement.

Severa sighed. “I can’t help it. This is your first real mission, after all…”

Paula smoothed back her unruly hair. “I suppose that you’re right about that.”

The trio were in the pegasus stables—Paula and Renee saddling their mounts and adjusting their equipment while Severa paced the corridor offering advice. A part of Severa’s mind knew that she was overreacting, but she was grateful that her subordinates were humoring her.

Planning the mission had been a considerable effort, and one that required an hours-long meeting. In addition to Inigo and Brady, Laurent had insisted that they take a group from the Shepherds to support them. Lucina pointed out that, given the winter weather, they would have difficulty sending messages back over the mountains, should they require help—so members of the pegasus knights had to be selected as well.

Cynthia had settled on Paula and Renee without a moment’s hesitation: having grown up near the Plegian border, they would be most familiar with the terrain. From the Shepherds, Kjelle had sent the Plegian mage Chandra and her reluctant partner Jun’yi, as well as Ivan, who had displayed a talent for juggling that would be a welcome addition to Inigo and Brady’s “performances.”

The date for their departure had been set for one week after the conclusion of the festival, and now it was finally upon them.

Severa took one last opportunity to fuss over her subordinates as they began leading their pegasi out to the courtyard. “Make sure that you clean and repair your tack every night, especially once it’s winter. The cold and wet will make it a lot more brittle.”

“Of course,” said Paula.

“And the same goes for your water-skins. Don’t over-fill them when the cold hits, or they might burst. If you’re not around water but there’s snow on the ground, you can pack it into them and wear them under your clothes to melt it.”

“Is there anything else, _mother_?” said Paula, hiding a smile.

“Just…” Severa shook her head. “Be careful out there. Come back safe.”

“We will.” To Severa’s surprise, it was Renee who spoke this time. “You’ve trained us well, Miss Severa. As long as we stick to what you told us, we’ll be just fine.”

“Renee…” Severa didn’t think she’d ever heard the younger knight string so many words together at the same time. It was oddly touching. “Thank you.”

They emerged into the courtyard to find the group from the Shepherds already waiting, clustered around a brightly-painted cart proclaiming itself to be the conveyance of “The Magnificent Azure Players’ Troupe.” Inigo leaned against it, dressed in blue clothing significantly more flamboyant than his usual attire. He was obviously enjoying his role as impresario, even if he had yet to truly begin. Brady, on the other hand, was his usual dour self, hunched over in the coachman’s seat with his habitual faint scowl.

The other Shepherds were scattered around the courtyard in small groups, making last-second checks of their gear or simply chatting with each other. Lucina and Cynthia were near the gate, with the three leaders of the Shepherds—Owain, Kjelle, and Laurent—standing close by. Apart from them, the courtyard was empty.

Cynthia, seeing Severa entering, waved her over with a grin. “ _There_ you are! I was wondering if you were going to show up.”

“Just giving some parting advice to our young soldiers,” said Severa.

Kjelle smirked. “You’re barely older than they are.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Severa retorted. “Besides, I’m just telling them things that I wish _I’d_ known, back when I went to Plegia.”

Laurent made a noise of what might have been amusement. “Their circumstances are, thankfully, rather less dire.”

“It looks like everyone is here now,” said Lucina. “Owain, could you please get their attention? I’d like to say a few words to see them off.”

Owain gave her a shallow bow. “Of course, noble cousin.” He cleared his throat, then bellowed “ _Hearken, faithful allies!_ The Exalt wishes to gift you with words to fortify your minds and hearts upon the long journey ahead!”

Silence fell in the courtyard as the eyes of the Shepherds turned first to Owain, then expectantly to Lucina. Severa saw a slight blush come to the Exalt’s face and wondered if it might have been better for Kjelle to do the introduction. At least she was less flowery.

Raising her voice so that it would carry to everyone in the courtyard, Lucina spoke. “The path to peace is long and difficult, but I pray that the worst is behind us. We have restored our beloved Ylisse—now, it is time we turned to the rest of the world. I have faith that, with your steadfast determination, we can take back what was lost to our world. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for your service. Go forth, knowing that all our hearts go with you.”

While brief, Severa thought Lucina’s speech was quite effective. The Shepherds carried themselves a little straighter after hearing it, honored by the responsibility that their ruler had entrusted to them. Inigo bowed deeply, teeth flashing in a smile.

“Thank you for your kind words, Your Grace.” He turned to the others, his new cape swirling in a suitably dramatic fashion. “All right, people, let’s get this show on the road!” He paused expectantly, waiting for a laugh that never came. “You know, because this is a—”

“Ah, shuttup and get on the cart, ya ninny,” said Brady. He nodded to Lucina. “Appreciate your words, Lucina. We’ll do our best to make ya proud out there.”

“I have no doubt that you will.”

Owain folded his arms, expression stern. “Come back soon, and in one piece. It wouldn’t do to have my star dancer and violinist out of commission before we’ve done more than a single run of plays.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, Owain,” said Inigo, sighing. “Don’t you go breaking anything while we’re gone, either.”

Amidst good-natured joshing, the “Magnificent Azure Players” made their way out through the front gate and down the long road from the castle. Severa, standing by the gate, watched them go until they were out of sight, her heart heavy. She had watched her father and mother ride this same path, years ago, with comrades who would never return.

She prayed that this time would be different.

\- - -

For the rest of the day, she put those thoughts from her mind, busying herself around the training grounds and the castle. As usual, she remained on the field long after the rest of her knight-sisters had finished, and bathed alone before heading to dinner.

A lively babble of conversation reached her ears long before Severa set foot in the mess hall. She paid it little heed: it was normal for the recruits to be boisterous in the absence of their superiors, and with the Shepherds visiting, there was no shortage of things to talk about.

The moment she heard her own name spoken, however, she stopped dead, pausing in the hallway outside to listen.

“Oh, please,” said Zoe, disbelief plain in her tone. “As if Severa would do that.”

“But it’s true!” insisted Susannah. “I saw her earlier that day, in the marketplace—I know exactly what she looked like. And she was definitely—”

“I still don’t believe it.”

“I swear—”

“Well, _I_ believe her,” said Lily.

“ _Thank you._ ”

“You really think the sub-commander could loosen up enough to go on a date?”

Severa blinked. _Is_ that _what they’re talking about?_

“Why not?” She was sure that Lily would be making some expressive gesture at this point. “She’s human, just like the rest of us. She has a right to enjoy her days off.”

“So wh-what did he look like?” Ellen sounded surprisingly eager.

“I didn’t get the greatest look,” Susanna confessed. “He was wearing a mask. But he must be incredibly handsome, to have caught _her_ eye.”

“Yeah, she’s not the type to tolerate imperfections…” Zoe drawled.

There was the sound of wood rapping skin, and a muffled yelp from Zoe. “She would not be so hard on you if your training met her standards,” said Teresa sternly.

“Take it easy…”

“If a spoon is enough to hurt you, you _definitely_ need to train harder,” Lily laughed.

“I…” There was a lull in the conversation as Ellen spoke up, and an expectant silence.

“What is it?”

“I’d really like to meet him. Miss Severa’s b-boyfriend, that is.”

“Really, now?” Susannah sounded curious. “Why’s that?”

“Well, you said that she seemed to be enjoying herself. Smiling, and laughing. And if he’s a person who can make her that happy… well, that’s g-good, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is.” Teresa cleared her throat. “But I believe it would be for the best if we did not pester her about it. If she wishes us to know, she will tell us in good time.”

Though most of the indistinct responses that followed sounded disappointed, they all seemed to have accepted the older soldier’s advice, and the conversation moved to other matters.

Severa stood in the hallway for a long minute, weighing what they had said. At last, she turned on her heel and headed back down the hallway.

She had lost her appetite.

Severa walked the grounds of the castle aimlessly for some time before finally finding herself on the west wall, above the gate. Before her, the setting sun cast long rays over Ylisstol, washing the city in its fading light. Somewhere out there, she knew, the small group dispatched to Plegia was setting up camp for the first night of their long journey.

_When it was Laurent, Gerome, and me, we didn’t even dare to carry tents. We had our bedrolls, and the hope that we’d be able to find somewhere dry and safe enough to snatch a few hours of sleep before continuing on our way. I remember being so tired, I felt like I couldn’t even put one foot in front of the other. Only the thought of Lucina kept me going: that she was waiting for me, depending on me, that when I returned I would tell her…_

She felt a bitter laugh welling up inside her and quelled it. _Look how that turned out. Mere moments after I returned, I was throwing myself into battle against Grima itself. In the end, not even our power was enough. We had to depend on a miracle. And I… I never told her. Maybe I never will._

The excited speculation of the mess hall returned to her, and she gripped the merlon in front of her hard, feeling the rough, sun-warmed stone beneath her fingers. _They all seemed so happy for me… all for the idea of a simple romance, built on a complete misunderstanding. We were two friends, that’s all—two friends visiting the festival together, not two lovers. But at the same time…_

_But at the same time, that’s what I wish it had been._

“Watching the sunset?” The diffident question jarred Severa out of her reverie, and she turned to see Laurent a short distance away, leaning against one of the merlons.

She crossed her arms, glaring. “Gods, could you try not to sneak up on me like that?”

“Forgive me. I had not realized that you were lost in thought, or I would have taken measures to alert you to my presence.” Laurent adjusted his glasses, studying her face over their thin rims. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine,” said Severa automatically. Laurent raised his eyebrows.

“Clearly you are not suffering from any physical malady, but I find it hard to believe that you are being entirely truthful with me—especially considering the troubled look on your face.”

“You’re beginning to annoy me.”

“My apologies. I had not intended to offend.” Laurent cleared his throat. “If it is anything I can help with—”

“It’s nothing that _anyone_ can help with, all right?” Severa closed her eyes, sighing in resignation. “It’s my own fault, and there’s nothing I can do to solve it.”

Laurent looked at her, his face grave. At last he spoke. “This is about Lucina, is it not?”

There was no doubt in his question, only the sense of asking for permission. Severa felt as if her heart had constricted. “What do you mean?”

“You care for her.”

“We all care for her, Laurent.”

“But not as you do; not in the same way.”

Her throat dry, Severa swallowed. “How long have you known?”

The lenses of Laurent’s glasses flashed in the sunset, obscuring his eyes from her view. “I had an inkling of it, back in Plegia. When you stood before her in that final battle, there was no doubt left in my mind that you loved her.”

“I only—”

“You offered your life for hers. Freely, and without hesitation. I can think of no expression of love more powerful.” A faint smile came to his lips. “Though, of course, it was a reckless action and one that I hope you will not repeat.”

“I…” Severa leaned forward against the merlon, cradling her head in her hands. “Who else knows? I hadn’t thought that anyone…”

“Only Gerome and I, but you can trust our discretion.”

“…oh, good,” said Severa. It was the only thing she could think of to say.

“It would not be ours to reveal,” said Laurent. He hesitated for a moment. “Severa, if I may…”

“What is it?”

“Why have you not told _her_?”

“Why do you think?”

Laurent clearly interpreted the question as rhetorical, and remained infuriatingly silent until Severa went on.

“Look, we lived through hell. You _saw_ what Grima did to this world. The only thing that saved us—the only thing that even had the _power_ to save us—was the Awakening, and the Exalted bloodline. And even then, it wasn’t a final victory. All we could do was put Grima back to sleep, to postpone this hell-on-earth for awhile until our descendants have to deal with it. But without the Exalted bloodline? None of it would be possible.”

She stepped away from the battlements, spreading her arms wide. “If the Exalted bloodline dies out, then so does our hope for the future. That’s what our parents died trying to protect. And I… I can’t let my own selfishness destroy that. I can’t provide Lucina with an heir. I’m not fit to reign by her side. The most I can hope to do…” She felt a sob welling up in her throat and ruthlessly pushed it back down. “The most I can do is continue to serve her like this, and hope to find happiness in that.”

For a long moment, Laurent looked at her, his face unreadable. After a moment, much to Severa’s surprise, his shoulders sagged. “I am sorry.”

“You are, huh? What for?”

“I will confess that I feel some guilt for not sharing in your cares.” Laurent adjusted his glasses. “The fate of the world does not hinge on who I love, nor does Gerome bear the fate of a country on his shoulders…”

Severa blinked. “You… and Gerome?”

“It is hardly common knowledge, given that neither of us are particularly prone to displays of physical affection, but… yes. Though that makes me feel guilty as well, since secrecy is somewhat of a luxury as well.” He rubbed at his forehead, sighing. “Forgive me. I should not be comparing myself to you—our circumstances could scarce be any more different.”

“No, it’s all right.” Severa forced a smile to her face, and a self-deprecating note to her voice. “It’s good to know that _somebody_ has managed to make something of this.”

Laurent’s answering smile was weak, but at least it was genuine. “Thank you for that, at least.”

“Anytime.”

He began to leave, but at the top of the stairs he turned back to face Severa once again. “As a vassal of the Ylissean crown, I commend your dedication to your duty. It is one of your strongest qualities, and your conviction to hold to it no matter what your personal feelings is admirable. But as your friend…” A small, sad smile came to his face. “I wish it could be otherwise.”

“…thank you.” This time, there was no concealing the break in her voice.

“I will take my leave.” Laurent gave her a shallow bow and descended the stairs.

Left alone, Severa leaned against the merlon once again. Unshed tears shone bright in her eyes, blinding her to the sunset.

She, too, wished it could be otherwise.

But she knew that unless she did something herself—unless she laid her soul bare, unless she broke the vow that she had sworn to herself in her heart—nothing would change. _And I can’t do it. I’m too much of a coward for that._

Instead, she merely stood there, her mind consumed by a secret that no longer seemed a secret, as the light fled from the sky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After an entire three months, here I am again. Hopefully you can forgive me for my update schedule. Feel free to say things in the comments, because I like to see concrete proof that people have actually read these. ^^;


	19. Successor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a visit to the Shepherds' garrison, Severa speaks with Owain.

“Are you all right back there?”

Severa turned in her saddle as she asked the question, the wind tugging at her hair as she did.

Lucina, her cheeks flushed from the wind, nodded. “Well, I’m not worried about falling, at least.”

“Blizzard would never let that happen, would you, girl?” said Severa, patting her mount’s neck. The pegasus whickered in response, as if agreeing.

“I’m in good hands, then.”

“Or good _hooves_.” When Lucina failed to respond, Severa sighed. _It was a lame joke in the first place, so no wonder she didn’t think much of it._

A moment later, she heard Lucina chuckle quietly. “That was pretty good, Severa.”

“Of course it was!” Severa grinned in reply, though at the moment the main thought in her head was _no, it really wasn’t._

“About how far are we from the Shepherds’ garrison?” asked the Exalt, her grip on Severa’s waist loosening slightly as she craned her neck to look at the countryside below. “I don’t often see Ylisse from this vantage point, so my bearings are a bit off.”

“A few miles yet, but we’ll be there within a quarter-hour.” Severa nudged Blizzard with her heels, adjusting the direction that the pegasus was flying. “And then we can get out of this blasted cold. I hope they have something good prepared for us—at least they’d _better_ if they want to give you a welcome that befits your station.”

“…I suppose so.”

“You _did_ remember to tell them we were coming, right?” Severa’s words were teasing, but she felt Lucina stiffen slightly.

“I think.”

“You _think_?”

The Exalt looked rather embarrassed. “I’m afraid I’ve had quite a bit on my mind lately. But I’m almost certain that I told Laurent we would be visiting today.”

_She doesn’t sound all that sure of herself, but I guess that I can cut her some slack. It’s true that she’s been busy, after all._

In the weeks since Inigo’s departure for Plegia, Lucina had been working day and night, writing letters to nobles in Ferox, Ylisse, and even the Valmese continent. The fevered pace of her writing coincided with the onset of winter: once the snows fell, it would be difficult for her messengers to deliver the Exalt’s words.

“Have you been sleeping well lately?” Severa asked, keeping her voice casual.

“I’ve been… sleeping.”

“Gods, Lucina, that’s not what I asked.” Severa turned one eye to glare at her liege. “And don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes, either. I patrol the courtyard outside your room, okay? I _know_ that you’ve had a candle lit in your room past midnight.”

The guilty look on Lucina’s face was like that of a child caught stealing sweets. “I admit, I have been keeping somewhat later hours than usual…”

“What are you doing… writing every single letter in your own hand?”

“…yes. Though my hand gets rather sore after a while.”

“Ugh! Really, Lucina?”

“What?”

“You could ask any one of the palace staff for help. I’m sure that they’d be glad to offer their assistance. Or… gods, you could ask _me_! It’s not like all of the recruits need me to hold their hands all the time. They have Cynthia to help them.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It bothers me that you’re not asking anyone for help,” said Severa, rolling her eyes. Lucina chuckled softly.

“I suppose I should expect nothing less than the most careful assistance from you. If you’d like to help me, I’d be glad to have you.”

“One more thing…”

“Yes?”

Severa smiled. “I’m going to make sure you get to sleep on time, if I have to throw you into bed myself.”

“Your threat is noted.”

\- - -

They reached the garrison and circled it in a long sweep, coming in for a landing on the training grounds. The sentry—a new recruit Severa didn’t recognize—looked up in surprise as Blizzard folded her wings.

“What’s going on?”

“Please inform your commander that the Exalt has arrived,” Severa said briskly.

The recruit’s jaw dropped and he craned his neck to look past Severa. “H-her Grace the Exalt?!”

“You should have been informed of this,” said Severa impatiently. “The Exalt sent a message—”

“It’s possible I may have forgotten to,” Lucina admitted sheepishly.

“You said you were almost certain you’d told them.”

“I, uh…”

“Never mind.” Severa waved to the recruit dismissively. “Just bring Laurent out here. He’ll know what to do.” When the Shepherd continued to stay still, Severa crossed her arms. “Today, please?”

The recruit swallowed, nodded, and fled.

Severa raised an eyebrow at Lucina. “Almost certain, huh?”

The Exalt ran a hand through her hair. “Sorry…”

“No harm done, I suppose. Except for that poor watchman’s composure, I suppose.”

“Cousin!” The boisterous shout came from the far end of the courtyard. Owain, grinning broadly, jogged over, his coat trailing out behind him. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“We were hoping to consult with the command staff, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“I was on my way to the training ground, but postponing that to speak with you is certainly a worthy cause.” Owain looked around. “Where did Nathan go? He was supposed to be standing watch—”

“We sent him inside to tell Laurent we were here. Assuming that Laurent is even around…”

“Don’t worry, Severa, he’s here.” Owain grinned. “Your arrival might be a welcome respite for him. He’s been quite frustrated, trying to drive matters of logistics and supply into the minds of our stalwart companions.”

“He’s probably sick of doing all of that himself,” said Severa dryly. “Time to push the work onto others.”

“If the Shepherds are gathering more recruits, then having people to lighten the load will be a boon,” said Lucina. “I hardly think he’s doing it for his own convenience.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“He has been lamentably bogged down,” Owain said, shaking his head. “Though, strangely enough, he rebuffed my offer to lend assistance…”

 _I can’t imagine why,_ Severa thought wryly. Owain was steady enough in a fight, but she didn’t think that would carry over to something as pedestrian as logistics and supply. _Though I shouldn’t judge him too quickly. After all,_ my _first procurement run for the pegasus knights was a disaster…_

“You and Kjelle are already seeing to the training of the new troops,” said Lucina. “I’m sure he didn’t want to overburden you.”

“Not to mention that you took responsibility for putting the entire play together,” said Severa. “If you ask me, you’re already going above and beyond what’s expected of you.”

“You make a compelling point,” said Owain, striking his trademark pose. “Endless paperwork would do little to stay my sword-hand’s eternal hunger for glory.”

It was only by virtue of their long acquaintance with Owain that Lucina and Severa managed to hide their smiles.

“Your Grace. To what do we owe this pleasure?” That was Laurent, emerging from the command building with Kjelle just behind him and the sentry Nathan several paces behind.

“I thought it might be good to get out of the castle. You mentioned in the last report you sent that there were matters you wished to explain in person?”

“Indeed. While we’ve had no further information on the Plegian situation, there are several other matters pertaining to foreign affairs that I thought best to explain face-to-face.” He looked back to the recruit and nodded briskly. “Thank you for bringing this matter to our attention. You may return to your post.”

“Sir!” Looking glad to be out of the company of so many notable people, the sentry strode off.

Owain sighed. “I suppose you’ll want me at this meeting, too…”

Hearing the defeated tone in his voice, Kjelle grinned. “I think we can manage to do without you for this one. Wouldn’t want you to shirk training on our account.” The knight winked. “You need to make sure that all of those rehearsals haven’t made you soft.”

“Pfft! No amount of thespian activity could quench the passionate fire that burns in my veins!”

“Fire in your veins sounds more than a little painful,” said Severa.

“Yet I can think of no words more apt to describe the dark powers that contend within me… ah, my aching blood!”

“Gods, you’re such a _nerd_.”

Owain scoffed. “Hey, that was a good one! I’ll have to write it down so I remember…”

“Why don’t you train first?” said Kjelle. “Get what needs to be done out of the way.”

“I suppose so.” Owain smiled at Severa. “Care to join me? I’ve been hard-pressed to find a competent sparring partner—”

“—meaning that he’s tired of losing to me every time we go head-to-head—”

“Oh, come on, Kjelle! That doesn’t happen.”

“Empirical evidence does not corroborate your objection,” said Laurent, eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

“Ah, forget it. So, how about it, Severa?”

Severa was tempted to say yes immediately, but she had her position as the Exalt’s guard to consider. She glanced to Lucina, who nodded in approval. “Go ahead. You hardly need to worry about my safety in the middle of the Shepherds’ garrison.”

 _Just what I wanted to hear._ Severa bared her teeth at Owain in a wolfish grin. “By the time I’m done with you, it won’t be only your blood that’s aching.”

Owain returned her smile, just as fiercely. “This ought to be fun.”

“Try not to break anything while we’re meeting,” said Laurent.

Kjelle was more blunt. “Try not to break _each other._ ”

“Not making any promises.”

As Lucina and the other two walked inside, Owain bowed. “Shall we dance?”

“You sound like Inigo,” Severa groused. “I’m not sure if I like that or not.”

“Well, if you don’t like it, there’s no better way of expressing displeasure than by a good friendly bout,” said Owain cheerfully.

“My thoughts exactly.”

They walked together to the storage shed next to the practice field. Owain flung open the doors with a flourish and stepped inside, where row after row of wooden practice weapons were neatly arranged on racks.

He selected one almost immediately—a narrow, well-worn sword, its hilt wrapped in strips of yellow fabric. Severa took her time, weighing practice swords in her hand and giving each a few experimental swings. After a moment, she settled on one in particular: a heavier and broader weapon than Owain’s, similar to the sword she had used during the war.

“This one should work.”

Owain chuckled approvingly. “Taking the time to get to know each blade is the mark of a true visionary.”

“I think you’re reading into this too much.”

The pair strolled out onto the practice field and took a few minutes to stretch and loosen up before squaring off. Severa sized up her opponent.

 _Been a while since the last time we practiced together._ Owain fought like no one else she knew, his style an eclectic fusion of several techniques. It fluidly combined the elegance of his father’s Chon’sin roots, the harsh practicality of the Feroxi arena fighters, and the refined grace of the Ylissean royal family with Owain’s own unique flair. _I can never be entirely sure which Owain I’ll be fighting… but I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge._

“Begin,” she said.

Owain lunged forward, immediately putting Severa on the defensive. She yielded a few steps before meeting his overhead swing with a two-handed block. While his sword was engaged with hers, she swept one foot toward his legs, forcing him to skip back to avoid being tripped.

She pressed her advantage, taking advantage of her blade’s weight to force Owain backward. He avoided her blows rather than trying to block them, biding his time until he could find an opportunity.

He got his opening when Severa overextended on one of her swings, and seized on it immediately. A series of quick jabs interrupted her rhythm, putting her on the defensive.

Owain’s slimmer, faster blade tested Severa’s defenses on every side, leaving her without a moment’s respite. She began to feel irritated. _He’s like an insect that won’t go away. I wish I could swat him._

As the co-commander of the Shepherds took another step forward, Severa changed tactics. Rather than allow herself to be forced back, she stepped into him, locking hilts and throwing her body weight behind her sword. Owain’s eyes widened with surprise as he was thrown backwards, landing on his rump.

Severa lifted her sword above her hed to finish it, but checked herself at the last moment. The sort of crushing blow she would aim at a fallen Risen would hardly be appropriate in this situation.

It was that moment of hesitation that cost her the match. Owain seized on it, rolling upright with a backwards somersault and lunging at Severa before she had the chance to recover. He pulled his blow at the last possible moment, tapping lightly on her collarbone.

“Good match,” Owain panted, smiling as he lifted his blade in a salute. Severa saluted in turn, sighing regretfully.

“Almost had you.”

“I thought you did, too.”

“For a second, I forgot it was supposed to be a friendly match. Had to remind myself of that before I hit you in the face.”

“I’m glad that you did… I like my face the way it is, thanks.” Owain tugged at his collar. “Nothing like a good spar to warm the blood in this dark season.”

“Winter isn’t for another few weeks, at least,” Severa responded with a roll of her eyes.

“Yet its biting chill is in the air, sinking frozen fangs into us in order to sap our strength.”

Despite herself, Severa chuckled. “Do you plan on writing a play about that, too?”

“I might.” Owain shrugged. “I need to take care not to overreach myself by taking on too many projects at once. Otherwise, the fire of my creative mind might burn low.”

“We couldn’t have that.” Severa began to walk back towards the storage shed, Owain next to her. “Say, Owain…”

“Yes?”

“What was it that Laurent wanted to discuss with Lucina, anyway? I didn’t ask her for any specifics, but…”

“Some sort of political talk. Not really the sort of thing I specialize in.”

“Maybe you should. It could be important to you, since you’re a member of the royal family.”

“Hardly a relevant one, though.” Owain shrugged with self-deprecating good humor. “And unless some miracle occurs, I will remain irrelevant. Quite comfortably, I might add.”

Severa placed her sword back on the rack, biting her lip. “I would hardly call you irrelevant. You’re the co-commander of the Shepherds, after all—”

“But in terms of Ylisse’s succession, that doesn’t particularly matter. Falchion has chosen the hand to which it is mated, and that hand is not mine.” He flourished his practice sword as he set it back in place. “It is my fate to wield a different storied blade—perhaps the legendary Mystletainn, if my station permits me sufficient time to seek it out.”

His tone was light, casual. Severa knew better.

She had seen him during the war. Though Owain hid his fears and doubts behind a mask of theatrics, not even that had been enough to conceal his despair at discovering he was not one of Falchion’s chosen. To him, it had felt like a failure to help Lucina: a burden he cold not help her to shoulder. Owain had thrown himself into danger time and time again, caring little for his own safety so long as his actions served the greater good.

She remembered the scene in the play, at the bridge. There, Owain’s “sacrifice” had seemed a grand and selfless gesture, fitting for a legendary hero. But Severa still wondered if, deep inside, there might have been another reason.

_As if Owain had wanted to die…_

“You certainly got quiet all of a sudden,” Owain teased.

Severa snapped back to the present, grimacing. “I was just picturing the consequences of you haring off after some nonexistent magic sword,” she lied. “I don’t think Kjelle would be too happy with you.”

“You can’t prove it doesn’t exist.”

“You can’t prove it _does_.”

Owain shrugged. “Anyway, you don’t really think that I would abandon my post, do you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Owain put a hand to his heart with affronted dignity. “So little faith in me! I’m devastated.”

“I’m sure you are. But let’s get back on track.” The pair exited the storage shed, pushing the doors closed behind them. “Is it the succession that they’re discussing in there, or politics in general?”

“They’re really one and the same, at this point,” said Owain. “And thus, not the sort of conversation I can contribute much to. Probably the reason that Kjelle let me go. With the Fell Dragon removed from play, the people have more of an eye to the future. They’ve found all sorts of things to worry about. Of course, they’re not too terribly excited to approach Lucina themselves, so they’ve been dropping not-so-subtle hints to Laurent instead.”

Severa had a sinking feeling she already knew what he was getting at, but she asked anyway. “Hints about what?”

“Marriage, succession, and so forth.”

“It seems a little early for that, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. But Uncle Chrom was about Lucina’s age when _he_ got married, after all. Some nobles feel as if that sets a precedent.”

“Ugh. As if it’s any of their business when Lucina decides to marry. Can’t they just leave well enough alone?”

“I’m with you on that, believe me.” Owain shook his head. “Gods’ sakes, we just won a war! But heaven forbid we delay a single instant on what the nobles think is important—”

“I was wondering why the others would let you skip the meeting, but it all makes sense now,” said Severa. “You feel rather strongly about this, don’t you?”

“That may be a tame way of putting it. But yes, I find the idea insufferable. I certainly have no thoughts of my own on the subject of marriage.” His jaw clenched. “In spite of her accomplishments, and all the things she’s done, the nobles still seem to view Lucina as little more than a commodity for ensuring the future of the country.”

Severa, remembering the words she had exchanged with Laurent on the walltop, concealed a wince. _I’m just as bad, really… viewing things in terms of rulers and successors without taking Lucina’s own feelings into account._

 _Or is it_ my _feelings that I’m avoiding?_

Owain was still talking; Severa pulled her attention back to the present.

“—hasn’t stopped them from putting several noble suitors forward for consideration. Even Gerome was on that list… I mean, he _is_ Duke of Rosanne, after all, but can you _imagine_ him and Lucina together?”

“No,” said Severa, exceedingly thankful that she couldn’t.

“I don’t think we need to be too concerned about it, though,” said Owain. “Laurent promised ‘to bring these matters to the Exalt’s attention,’ but that’s all. He has no intention of forcing her into a choice—knowing him, he’ll probably advise against putting too much stock in the situation.”

“As sensible as ever,” said Severa, feeling a surge of relief.

“Well, we’d expect nothing less from him.” Owain rolled his shoulders, glancing up at the sky. “Think we’ve given them enough time to get past the boring parts of the meeting?”

“I’d say so.”

“Then we may as well join them. I’m sure they’ll be glad for the chance to change the subject.”

Side by side, the pair walked toward Laurent’s office.

\- - -

The meeting ended roughly half an hour later, and the five friends walked together into the courtyard.

“It was a pleasure to see you, Your Grace,” said Laurent, inclining his head to Lucina. “I hope to see you again soon.”

“Though perhaps give us a word of warning next time,” said Kjelle. “I don’t want our sentries fainting out of excitement.”

Lucina grinned, a little bit guiltily. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Ready to leave whenever you are, Lucina,” said Severa. She stood further back, holding Blizzard’s reins as the pegasus pawed the ground. “The royal guards will get restless if we delay too much longer.”

“I suppose you are right. I am ready to depart whenever you are.”

“Ah, the heavy burden of responsibility. Would that I could avoid it entirely.” Owain shook his head.

Kjelle raised an eyebrow. “If you think it’s heavy, maybe you should teach yourself to lift more.”

Owain shrugged. “We can’t all be duty-bound mountains of muscle.The world is more interesting with some variety.”

The Exalt laughed. “You certainly help make the world more interesting, Owain.”

“That’s a position I’m honored to have.”

Severa, who had climbed into the saddle while the others were still talking, cleared her throat. “Were we planning on leaving any time soon, or should I dismount again so you can take your time saying your goodbyes?”

“Oops… Sorry, Severa.” Lucina gave the three Shepherds a quick wave. “I’ll try to visit again as soon as I can—I should start following my father’s example with regards to the Shepherds.”

“There will be plenty of time for that soon enough.” Kjelle grinned. “Now get going before Severa decides to take off without you!”

Lucina took the hand Severa offered and allowed herself to be pulled into the saddle. “Have a safe flight back!” Laurent called.

“We will!” said Severa, and signaled for Blizzard to take off.

The pair were mostly quiet while the pegasus forged upwards, shifting in the saddle with every beat of her wings. When Blizzard leveled out, they had enough attention to spare for a conversation.

“How was your spar with Owain?” Lucina wanted to know.

“I lost, unfortunately.”

“Oh?”

“I might have gotten a little too absorbed in things and forgotten that the point _wasn’t_ actually to beat him black and blue.”

“And after Kjelle told you not to break each other, too.” Lucina chuckled. “Did you enjoy it, at least?”

“I did. I haven’t done anything of the sort since my last bout with you… I have to hold back when I’m with the recruits, or they could get really hurt.”

“I hadn’t realized that you were missing out, or I would have offered to spar with you again.”

Severa glanced over her shoulder, about to say that she hadn’t wanted to interrupt Lucina’s work, but she changed her mind when she caught a glimpse of Lucina’s eyes. _She feels lonely. During the war, we were the only ones that she could confide in. And now that she’s Exalt, there’s a sort of distance between her and the common folk. Like they see her as more than she wants to be._

“…how early would I have to get up, though?” Severa winked. “If it’s at the crack of dawn, you’d probably have an unfair advantage.”

“I can give you time to wake up first, if you really need to.”

“If that’s the case, maybe you could convince me.” Severa twitched the reins, turning Blizzard a touch further to the south. “What about you? Well, I mean, I caught the last bit of your meeting, but I’m not really sure what was going on at the beginning.” _Owain might have told me his guess, but Lucina doesn’t know that._

The Exalt was silent for a few moments, shifting her weight in the saddle as she considered the question. Her voice, when she spoke up at last, was terse. “Nothing important.”

For some reason, Severa was glad to hear that answer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you might have noticed, the last few months have been rather... hectic, and I've found myself with a lot less time to do things I want to do (i.e. writing). I very unsubtly alluded to that in this chapter by having Owain mention having too many projects. Such a clever author I am.


	20. Paragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severa's mother put her dedication--to her daughter, and to her country--above all else.

Severa was used to living in the shadow of others—accustomed to pushing down her own feelings and consigning herself to second-best. Even when her grief was fresh, this mindset held firm.

When her father died, she put on a brave face as well as a girl of nine could. Part of it stemmed from a wish to live up to her father’s standards. Even if he was gone, he wold want her to stay strong. Strong, like him.

Part of it was her determination not to burden her friends. After all, many of them had lost more than she had. Gerome, Nah, and Laurent had all lost both of their parents. Lucina had lived without hers for longer still; her father dead, her mother suspected as the killer. What was her sorrow, when measured against theirs?

And the last part—the part she found hardest to admit, even to herself—was a refusal to show weakness to her mother.

 _Mother, who is always better than everyone else. She even_ mourns _perfectly._

Despite her husband’s death, Cordelia didn’t take any leave of absence from the Ylissean military—the only acknowledgment of her loss, a black armband tied under her right pauldron. Other knights, and even some of the children, had imitated her, honoring lost parents, siblings, or lovers.

Severa mourned differently.

Ever since the Ylissean forces’ return from Plegia, Severa closed herself off from her friends at every turn. She turned down invitations to go for walks, or requests to play together. More often than not, she ate alone—Cordelia was almost always gone.

Sometimes Severa lashed out in anger when she felt as if her friends were prying. She reduced Brady to tears when he timidly tried to comfort her, prompting Cordelia to pull her aside when she returned from the day’s patrols.

“Brady also lost one of his parents, Sevvy,” her mother said gently. “He’s going through the same thing at you are, so he understands—”

“He _doesn’t_ understand!” Severa, eyes stinging with tears, glared up at Cordelia. “His dad is still there for him!”

“Yes, but his—”

“Unlike _you_!” As her mother halted, blinking in shock, Severa pressed on. “You’re never here anymore! You just stay out flying around, because you don’t even want to be around me!”

“Sevvy, you know that isn’t the reason.”

“Then what is?” Severa was almost shouting by now. “Ricken seems to think that being with Brady is more important than going out and killing Risen, but you don’t feel the same way about me! You go out without even _telling_ me!”

“I have a duty to—”

“You don’t even care about how hard it was for me to lose daddy!” Severa clenched her small fists at her sides. “All you care about is doing what Chrom told you to! That’s all you’ve _ever_ cared about!”

Her mother’s mouth trembled. “Severa, you know that I love you—”

“ _I HATE YOU!_ ” Severa’s voice cracked as she shouted. “You fell apart when Chrom died! But now that daddy’s gone, it doesn’t even seem like you care!”

Cordelia looked stricken. Her lips moved soundlessly, unable to bring forth any words.

“I’m sick of talking to you. I’m going to my room.” Severa turned on her heel and stormed off toward her room.

She did not look back, though she heard a muffled sob behind her.

Had she looked, she would have seen Cordelia crumple slowly down to the floor, tears streaming from her eyes.

 

Severa slammed her door closed and fumbled with the lock. For some reason, she couldn’t manage to latch it properly. Giving up, Severa flung herself onto her bed, buried her face in her pillow, and shut her eyes tightly.

_Why do I have to be so weak?_

A hot, sickening feeling of guilt had been growing in her since the moment she turned away from her mother.

_I shouldn’t have said such horrible things._

Severa tightened her fingers in her hair.

_I wasn’t being fair._

She folded in on herself, curling into a ball, trembling, her breath coming quicker and quicker as she shook with sobs.

_If Daddy had heard me talking that way to her, he would have been so disappointed…_

That only made the feeling of guilt within Severa grow stronger. She cried and cried, until the sheets on which she rested her head were sodden with tears.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there. Long enough, at least, for it to worry someone else.

There was a hand at her back, gently stroking her shoulder, and a voice murmuring quietly to her.

“I’m here for you, Sevvy. I’m here.”

Though her vision was blurred by tears, Severa could still recognize her mother’s vivid hair. “M-mommy…”

“That’s right.” Cordelia squeezed Severa’s shoulder gently, reassuringly. “That’s right, sweetie. Mommy’s here.”

“Mommy, I’m…” Severa flung herself against Cordelia with a sob. “I’m so sorry, mommy—”

“I forgive you, Sevvy.” Cordelia wrapped her arms tightly around Severa, rocking her back and forth as her daughter continued to cry against her chest.

“I didn’t… I d-didn’t…” Severa stammered, her breath still uneven.

“Shhh, dear. Just take a deep breath.”

“I-I-I—” Severa hiccuped, her throat feeling almost too tight to force out the words.

And still, Cordelia’s voice cut through her sobs, softly and reassuringly repeating “It’s all right. It’s all right.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know, darling. I know.” With one hand, Cordelia smoothed back Severa’s hair, her fingers working out the tangles. “We all deal with these things in our own way.”

“B-but I’m awful… I made Brady cry… I made _you_ cry…”

“Severa.” Cordelia’s voice was gentle, but insistent. “Sevvy, look at me.”

Sniffing, Severa looked up.

Seeing her mother, Severa was struck by how she looked. This close, she could see all the cracks in Cordelia’s composure: her eyes, bloodshot and red-rimmed from tears, dark circles like the ghosts of bruises high on her cheeks.

“I know that this is hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but because of that I haven’t done enough for you.”

“Mommy?”

Cordelia sighed. “I’ve been trying to push away my grief—to bury it in anything that I can, by throwing myself into my work, my duty… I’ve been a coward.”

Severa shook her head vehemently, wiping at her eyes. “No, mommy, you’re brave! You are!”

“But I haven’t done right by you,” said Cordelia. “I’ve run away from it, run away from _you_ , because I wasn’t strong enough to help you without falling apart myself.” She shook her head. “It’s what I would do with one of my soldiers, but you… you’re my _daughter_. You deserve better than that.”

“Mommy—!” Severa leaned into Cordelia’s chest once again.

Cordelia hugged her tightly, fiercely. “I promise you, Sevvy, I’ll do better from now on. I’ll be here for you, like I should have been all along. I promise.”

They sat there, arms around one another, for what seemed like hours. At last, they drew apart.

Severa wiped at her runny nose, blushing as she looked at the front of her mother’s shirt. “I’m sorry I made a mess…”

Cordelia tousled her hair, smiling. “That’s fine. It’ll be easy to clean up.”

“Okay.” Severa looked over towards the door with a weak giggle. “I’m glad I didn’t manage to lock the door.”

“So am I, Sevvy.” Cordelia got to her feet, offering Severa a hand. “Are you hungry? I know that I am.”

Severa felt her stomach rumble and simply nodded.

“Well then, let’s get something to eat together. We can make more promises to each other once we’re properly fed.”

“All right.”

Hand in hand, mother and daughter went down to share supper.

 

Things were different between Cordelia and Severa after that. If there was one thing that Frederick’s death and the following fights had accomplished, it was bringing them closer together.

They still had their fair share of arguments, of course—Severa only grew more obstinate as she got older—but they always apologized afterward, and made everything right again.

Cordelia continued to run more than her share of patrols, but she was sure to always tell Severa before she departed. It became a sort of good-luck ritual: Cordelia would squeeze Severa’s shoulder and kiss her forehead.

“It’s time for me to go, Sevvy. I love you.”

“I love you too, mom. Come back safe.”

“I’ll be home before you know it.”

It was always the same words they exchanged. As time went on, they took on a sort of sing-song quality, as if they were some kind of magic spell. Mother and daughter would always share a secret laugh when it was done.

They had precious little to laugh about, otherwise.

The news from elsewhere continued to be grim. Grima’s wrath was focused north, on Regna Ferox. Though the Feroxi were fierce fighters, theirs was a losing battle. Step by bloody step, they were being beaten back across their land.

Not even Exalt Lissa’s efforts to help her husband’s people could slow the relentless advance. The casualties continued to mount, as the remains of Chrom’s Shepherds began to fall apart.

 _Gaius_. Cynthia’s father had always been kind, always ready with a joke or a piece of candy when he saw a child in need of cheering up. He’d fallen defending a wagon of Feroxi children fleeing the overrun west.

 _Tharja_. Noire had locked herself in her room when she heard of her mother’s death. Severa, sitting outside her friend’s door in hopes of comforting her, had heard the other girl weeping and raging by turns, thrown off-balance by the news.

 _Sully. Kellam. Stahl._ Along with Stahl, Kjelle’s parents had led a unit of heavy cavalry, wielding themselves like a hammer against the Risen ranks. Their daring charges had saved countless lives, but that luck could not hold forever.

Each time Severa felt her mother’s kiss and said “Come back safe,” she worried that Cordelia would be next.

 

The push came just before Severa’s thirteenth birthday.

It was a hard winter, all the more so because of the steady flow of refugees into the capital. Supplies were stretched thin, and room was in short supply.

Even more demoralizing was the stories that the hollow-eyed Feroxi told. The line of defense had fallen. Khan Flavia was dead. Entire cities had been razed by Grimleal mages, and those who fled too slowly were engulfed by the horde.

Now Khan Lon’qu was leading the last of his people in a desperate rush to the Longfort, Ferox’s ancient border-wall. Exalt Lissa, in response, was sending her forces northward to aid her husband’s retreat.

Cordelia’s knights would ride with them.

“You said that you would be here for my birthday!” Severa said, gritting her teeth. “You _promised._ ”

It was the morning of the pegasus knights’ departure, and Severa was not about to quietly accept her mother’s decision.

Cordelia ran a hand through her hair, clearly exasperated. “Severa…”

“What, _mother_? Is it suddenly too hard for you to keep your promises? You said that we would celebrate together, just the two of us… but now you’re going to be gone for the whole week!”

“When I get back, we can—”

“It won’t be the same! You’ve always been here for my birthday!”

“Sevvy, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“You promised that you’d be home with me, and we both know how much _that_ meant to you.”

Cordelia’s jaw tightened, and her eyes flashed. For the first time in a long time, Severa saw a hint of anger penetrate her mother’s cool facade. “I do this to protect you.”

“Oh, sure.” Severa scoffed. “Like I can take anything you say seriously. This is pointless.” She turned to leave.

“Severa!” Cordelia’s tone was uncharacteristically harsh. “We’re not done talking yet.”

“I am,” said Severa without turning back.

“You—Severa, come back here! _Severa!_ ”

She ignored her mother as she stormed to her room and locked the door behind her.

_I can’t believe her!_

Severa sat sullenly on the floor, resting her back against the wall beside the door, and fumed.

 _I guess I shouldn’t have expected any better, though. She’s_ perfect. _She has much better things to do than worry about her ungrateful, second-rate daughter._

She spent an increasingly long time absorbed in self-pity: hugging her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them, and generally stewing in her own foul mood.

_Well, if she doesn’t want to be with me, then fine. I’ll just celebrate on my own. She’ll be sorry when she gets back. At least, she’d better be._

A loud knocking on the door made her jump, banging her head back against the wall. She rubbed at the sore spot, glaring. “Ugh, _what_?”

Cynthia’s cheerful voice chirped from the other side. “Hey, Sevvy! Since our moms are both going to be headed out, I thought we should all have lunch together with the knights. You know, to see them off before they go!”

Severa’s stomach rumbled at the anticipation of lunch, but she had no desire to see her mother just yet. _Not when she hasn’t even apologized to me for breaking her promise._

“I’m not hungry,” she lied.

“Well, I hope you are soon! Because after lunch, we’ll get to watch them fly out from the courtyard!” Severa could practically _hear_ Cynthia grinning. “Just think, Sevvy—a _real_ pegasus knight takeoff!”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Anyway, I’ll let them know that you’ll be down to see them off!”

 _Now when did I say that?_ “Hey, Cynthia, don’t—”

It was a bit late for that. She could hear the other girl’s footsteps clacking merrily off down the hall. Severa shook her head and sighed.

“She never listens.”

It was some time before she heard another knock at her door, and this one was so soft she wondered if she had imagined it. Her mother’s voice came softly through the door.

“Sevvy, are you in there?”

 _Go away,_ thought Severa huffily.

There was a slight rattle as Cordelia tried the doorknob. Severa had made sure to lock it this time, though.

“It’s time for me to go, Sevvy.”

There they were. The same words they exchanged every time Cordelia left, filled with false cheer. Only this time, Severa was in no mood to give the normal response.

“I love you,” said Cordelia.

_No you don’t. If you really did, you would have kept your promise to stay._

Severa didn’t reply.

The silence dragged on and on. She could almost feel Cordelia’s soft breathing as she waited. No answer was coming, though. No kiss goodbye, either.

At last, Cordelia sighed. There was an almost defeated tone to her voice. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Then, the _clack, clack, clack_ of her boots retreating down the hall.

_Fine. Go ahead, leave. See if I care._

Severa thumped a fist against her leg, gritting her teeth.

_It’s not fair._

Cordelia’s voice came to her, as if an echo, repeating words she had spoken long ago. _“I want Severa to_ live _to grow up. I would give… anything to make that happen. Anything…”_

She buried her face in her hands.

_I’m so selfish._

Severa stood up, unlocked her door, and began to run.

She ran down the halls of the castles as quickly as she could, drawing shouts of surprise from a cleric she came close to bowling over, barely pausing to apologize before she was off again, running, running. She set her sights on the courtyard.

She could hear orders being shouted, the clanking of metal, the unsettled shifting of wings. She ran faster.

The winter brightness of the courtyard shone before her, almost blinding, and the pounding of her footsteps and her ragged breathing drowned out all other sound. She put on a last burst of speed and staggered out into the courtyard, doubled over, panting.

“Mother—!”

Severa straightened. The courtyard was already empty. In the distant sky, white wings beat toward the horizon.

“Severa?” That was Panne, her nose wrinkled in confusion, shepherding Cynthia, Noire, and Yarne back inside. “I didn’t think you would be coming.”

“Are…” Severa coughed, trying to get a better breath. “Are they gone?”

“Yes. The pegasus knights have taken to the air.” Panne frowned. “I had thought Cordelia went to fetch you…”

Severa felt a lump in her throat and swallowed hard. “Oh.”

Panne mistook Severa’s reaction and smiled reassuringly. “Do not worry, your mother was not unhappy with you. She told me to take good care of you while she is gone. After all, this is a very special week for you.”

Noire nodded shakily, smiling. “Are you going to help with the celebration?”

The taguel scratched at one ear. “I will admit, I am not familiar with any birthday customs you might celebrate, but I will do my best to give you a proper celebration.”

“I’m invited, right?” interrupted Cynthia. “Oh, please say yes, Sevvy, I love going to your birthday parties, they’re always so much fun…”

Panne’s gentle manner had begun to cheer Severa up. She managed a smile at Cynthia. “Of course you’re invited. And so is Noire, and Yarne, and Lucy, and Kjelle, and—” Her stomach rumbled loudly, cutting her off. Severa blushed.

“Come on, Severa, let’s get you some lunch,” said Panne. “You’ll be able to plan much better when you’re not so hungry.”

“Okay,” said Severa, letting herself be steered inside.

_I guess it was a dumb thing to argue about… of course mom had something in mind._

_When she gets back, I’ll tell her that I’m sorry. I know that she’ll understand._

 

The skies were overcast, steel-gray with the promise of snow, when the remnants of the rescue force returned from across the Longfort.

Severa felt as if she was reliving a nightmare from three years past.

The children crowded around the gates of Ylisstol— _so few of us, still waiting for our parents to come home!—_ as the Exalt’s troops came down the road. Severa caught her breath.

_Not a nightmare… even worse._

The group marched with little regard for order. An Ylissean lancer, her uniform stained with enough mud and blood to make its color unrecognizable, waved the people following her inside with one roughly splinted hand. Soldiers and civilians walked together in a single ragged mass. Some leaned on each other; others limped along with makeshift crutches cut from the leafless trees.

She saw no familiar faces among the crowd.

A hard knot of anxiety settled into Severa’s stomach. _Khan Lon’qu was supposed to be leading, but I don’t see him anywhere. Where’s Ricken? What about Libra and Olivia? Sumia? …Mother?_

Exalt Lissa stepped forward, her staff trembling in her hand. “Who’s in command here?”

“Me, Yer Grace.” A dark-haired man with an x-shaped scar on one cheek stepped forward, leaning heavily on his lance. “Of what’s left, anyhow. Not many able bodies left ‘round these parts, so we make do with what we can.”

“Is this…” Lissa kept her voice even, but the look in her eyes betrayed her dismay. “Is this all?”

A wagon rolled by, one dented wheel giving it an uneven bounce. A hoarse voice called out from inside.

“Lissa…”

The Exalt’s eyes widened. “Ricken!” She took in the fissure in his breastplate, where a heavy blow had crushed the metal inward. “What happened to you?”

The mage coughed, scattering flecks of blood over the rough blanket that covered him from the waist down. “Ambush. They caught us just north of the Longfort.”

“Where’s Lon’qu?” said Lissa. “And Owain! Where is my son?”

“Owain’s with us,” said Ricken. “But the Khan… he’s…”

Tears began to trickle down Lissa’s cheeks, but she kept her voice level. “Tell me what happened.”

“Forward scouts went missing,” mumbled Ricken. “We had no warning. One minute we were marching along the road, then there were suddenly Risen everywhere. Archers on a bluff above the road.”

He coughed again. “They got my horse first. She fell on my bad leg, crushed it… barely managed to drag myself out.”

“And my husband?”

“The Khan was walking with Owain, up at the front of the column. When he saw the archers, he…” A drop of blood bubbled at the corner of Ricken’s lips before trickling down his chin. “He wouldn’t let them harm your son…”

Lissa shut her eyes tightly. “He would have done the same for anyone.”

Ricken nodded.”Yes. He was always brave.” He took a deep, rattling breath. “Libra got me to one of the wagons, gave me what healing he could. The last I saw of him, he and Olivia had a group of soldiers together to charge the bluff… too steep, they could never have made it all the way up, they were just trying to buy us time…”

“Where’s mommy?” demanded Severa. “Mommy and Sumia should be here, too…”

Ricken met her eyes for only a moment before looking away.

“No…” Severa whispered, her eyes going wide.

Lissa put a hand on Severa’s shoulder. “What happened?”

Ricken, his voice raspy, spoke. “The Risen were holding a group of mages in reserve… some of them were wielding wind magic. Between them and the archers, our knights never stood a chance.”

He was saying something else, offering more explanations, more apologies. Severa barely heard him.

Her mother was gone.

_I should have said goodbye to her… should have done anything but argue with her when she was about to leave._

_All that time, she was telling the truth… she was doing everything for my sake. I was too selfish to realize it, but now…_

_It doesn’t matter anymore._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hard chapter to write, especially given what's been going on recently. Yesterday was the first day since the 20th that I managed to meet my daily writing goals... but the further along I am, the easier the words come to me, and I realize that I _will_ get through this one way or another.
> 
> ...rambling malaise aside, I hope that this fic continues to live up to expectations.


	21. Foreboding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As winter draws nearer, Severa and Lucina receive unsettling news.

The year went on, fall slipping ever closer to winter.

Severa made daily visits to Lucina’s quarters, following through on her promise to help the Exalt with her letters. Each morning, she’d get a tray from the kitchens and bring it up to Lucina’s room. The two of them would eat breakfast together, discussing their agenda for the day, and begin work immediately afterward. If their workload, and the weather, permitted, they would spar in the evening, then relax in the baths before turning in for the night. The routine was oddly soothing, in its own way.

From time to time, others would join in their work. Gerome stopped by frequently, lending his knowledge of the duchies around Rosanne to assist in re-establishing diplomatic ties with Valm.

Likewise, Laurent was a recurring guest. He stopped by at the end of every week to deliver reports from Kjelle and Owain. The documents dealt with the day-to-day business of the kingdom—the ongoing effort to exterminate the remaining Risen, the defensive measures taken by the villages in order to safeguard the harvest, the progression of recruitment and training among the new Shepherds, and a dozen other things.

Personally, Severa found much of the material to be unbearably dull. _Though maybe it’s because I deal with pretty much the same thing with the pegasus knights. When I’ve got paperwork of my own to do, it’s not exactly fun to get more._

Two days after their weekly briefing with Laurent, Severa made her way up to Lucina’s room once again. The tray was a bit more crowded than usual: in addition to their usual porridge, Severa had procured a jar of honey and a bowl of dried fruit.

_It’s a treat. Probably not much of one, but still… I hope it brightens up her day a little._

She reached the door and, since both her hands were occupied with the breakfast tray, knocked with her boot instead. “Lucina, breakfast!”

“Just a moment!” Severa heard the legs of a chair scrape on the floor, and a few moments later Lucina pulled the door open. “Good morning, Severa.”

“Morning, Lucina.” Severa glanced down at the Exalt’s hands, already seeing ink-stains. “Looks like you’ve already been busy this morning. Didn’t I tell you to take it easy?”

“I was having difficulty sleeping,” said Lucina. “I woke up perhaps two hours ago and realized that it would be pointless to try to get back to sleep, so…” She shrugged. “Well, I thought I might at least try to get something done on my own.”

“I mean, I guess that’s okay, but you really shouldn’t make it a habit,” said Severa, setting down the tray. “If you do, then you’ll keep waking up earlier and earlier, until eventually you’re not sleeping at all.”

Lucina grinned sheepishly. “You’re probably right, there. But I can’t help worrying; there’s just so much to do…”

“That’s why I’m here,” said Severa, winking. “To help you with your work whenever I can, and make sure that you eat and sleep.” She set down the tray, smiling. “Now then, why don’t you take a break and we can eat breakfast?”

“Sounds good to me.”

They took their seats at the table, and Lucina eagerly spooned honey into her bowl. “Ah, it’s always nice to start out the morning with something sweet.”

“I thought your morning had started two hours ago,” Severa teased.

“I suppose so, but this is the first thing I’ve eaten since I got up.”

Severa took a handful of dried fruit and sprinkled it on top of her own porridge. “So, what’re we looking at today?”

“At the moment? Another letter from Duchess Yvette of Clementeau.”

“She’s one of Gerome’s neighbors, right?”

Lucina nodded. “House Clementeau’s lands were only lightly touched by the war, and their granaries are mostly intact. With spring planting a season ahead of us…”

“We need to make sure we actually have something to plant,” Severa finished. “Makes sense. So what does the Duchess say?”

“She’s expressed concern about the security of her estate, and requested military assistance. Even though the Risen are in retreat, her position is still precarious.”

“Uh, why? Seems like she would need fewer soldiers now, not more.”

“Valm is developing a bandit problem,” said Lucina with a sigh. “Well, to be more precise, the continent has had a bandit problem for some time. It’s only come to light in the decline of the Risen.”

“Bandits… ugh, typical.”

“As far as we’ve been able to determine, the bandits are rogue elements of the former Imperial Army. When Emperor Walhart died, his chain of command crumbled, and his army splintered.”

“And now little pieces of it are running all over the place, stealing everything that isn’t nailed down? _Wonderful_.” Severa rolled her eyes as she drizzled honey over her bowl.

“I am grateful that our continent avoided the same fate,” said Lucina. Severa snorted.

“Only because there’s barely enough of our soldiers left to fight the Risen, let alone each other.”

The Exalt sighed. “You may have a point. Gods only know why so many of our own nobles have chosen now to settle their grievances with each other.”

“Probably because they have too much free time on their hands.”

“That seems likely.”

“Either that, or jealousy. Some nobles are a lot better off than others. Hell, some _commoners_ are better off than nobles, now that we’re rebuilding and their skills are in demand.”

“The nobles’ resentment certainly isn’t helping things,” said Lucina. “Sometimes, people who are accustomed to success and easy living take it as a personal affront when others gain those same privileges.”

“I’d knock some sense into all of them if I could, but I think that my arms would tire out before I ran out of people who deserved a good rap on the head.”

Lucina laughed. “Yes, you wouldn’t want to spend too much time on a futile effort. Let’s just concentrate on what we _can_ improve for now.”

“Less discouraging that way.” Severa scraped the last of her honeyed porridge from the bottom of her bowl, sighing in contentment. “All right, Lucina, shall we get back to work?”

“Indeed we shall.”

 

The rest of the morning and afternoon seemed to go by in a blur. Lucina and Severa made their way through two more letters, a draft of a proclamation on distribution of resources during the winter, and a trade agreement from one of the surviving Chon’sin dynasts.

After an afternoon spent bent over desks, it was a relief to work off excess energy during their nightly sparring session. They switched off weapons—first swords, then lances, to ensure that their skills in both varieties of close combat were kept sharp.

Lucina sighed in contentment as they put their weapons away for the night. “Have I mentioned how much I appreciate having a sparring partner who doesn’t act as if I’m made of glass?”

“Yeah, only every time we’ve practiced together for the last few weeks,” said Severa with a wink. “Really, though, I should be thanking you. It’s been nice not having to hold back. The knights have been making a lot of progress, but they’re still nowhere near my level.”

“How humble of you.”

“It’s not bragging if it’s true,” Severa countered.

“I suppose that I can try to take it as a compliment, then.” Lucina smiled. “After all, if you’re not holding back at all,, that must mean that I’m on the same level as you.”

“More like above it.”

“I disagree. You’re more than my equal with the lance.”

“Only because I spent every day for months yelling at recruits about how to use it properly.” Severa scoffed. “I’d have looked pretty stupid if I was making the same mistakes I was warning them off of. So I had to be better than everyone else.”

“Then we can agree that each of us has her own area of expertise,” said Lucina.

“Sure if you insist.” Severa wiped a sleeve across her forehead. “Whew… Even if it’s getting cold, I’ve still managed to work up a sweat.”

Lucina laughed. “Then we should head to the baths.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Shortly afterward, the two settled into the main pool, freshly scrubbed and wanting nothing more than to relax.

“I think we got some good work done today,” said Lucina. “It’s definitely faster to work with you than to do everything by myself.”

“Well, obviously. That’s why I wanted to help you. You were making everything more difficult than it needed to be.” Severa shrugged. “Really, though, you should think of getting more assistants.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, right now you’re trying to deal with every single issue personally,” said Severa. “Which I guess is great in theory, but it doesn’t really leave you with much freedom. If you had more people to help you out, then you’d have more time for yourself.”

“What would I use that time for, if I had it?”

“To start off, you could always try getting a full night’s sleep.”

Lucina smiled wryly. “I’m not sure that I would be able to… I think I would spend too much time worrying about whether or not my assistants were secure in their duties.”

“Gods, Lucina, listen to yourself.” Severa rolled her eyes. “You trusted Kjelle and Owain’s groups to bring back the Gemstones, just like you trusted me, Gerome, and Laurent to get the Fire Emblem out of Plegia.”

Lucina’s shoulders slumped. “I would have gone with you if I could. And I _did_ worry about you.”

“But that was because we were in danger, not because you thought that we couldn’t handle the job you gave us.”

“The circumstances aren’t exactly the same…”

“You’re right. The stakes aren’t nearly as high this time, which means that it’ll be fine if not everything is perfect.” Severa smiled encouragingly. “If you’re still having trouble justifying it to yourself, think of it as something for everyone else’s peace of mind. I know that Laurent and I will both feel much better if you get some of the weight off of your shoulders.”

The Exalt bit her lip. “Have I truly been causing you to worry?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that it’s your fault, but… yes, we have been concerned about you. You’re not just our ruler, you’re our friend. And we want you to do what’s best for _you_ , not just for Ylisse.” Severa smirked. “Though I might suggest that what’s good for you is also good for Ylisse. A country tends to fare better when its ruler is secure.”

Lucina considered Severa’s words for a moment before nodding. “You make a god point. Very well, then… if recruiting more aides to assist in government matters may help to improve the welfare of our people, then I am duty-bound to try it.”

“There you go again with the duty talk,” said Severa, shaking her head. “Just once, I’d like you to take my advice because it’s _good_ , not because I guilted you into it.”

“Well, the fact that it was good advice was the other reason I listened to you—”

“E-excuse me, Your Grace?” A timid voice called from near the doorway, cutting into their conversation. Lucina raised her voice to reply.

“I am here. What is it?”

Ellen came into the room, bobbing a quick bow to the Exalt and saluting Severa. “I was told to find you.”

“What does Cynthia want now?” said Severa, rolling her eyes. “Couldn’t it wait for—”

“Commander Cynthia wasn’t the one who sent me,” said Ellen. She wrung her hands nervously and gulped. “Sir Laurent is here.”

“Laurent?” Severa turned sharply, sending ripples across the pool. “What’s he doing in Ylisstol? It’s nowhere near the time he’d be giving his next report—”

“He s-said that he had important information. Information that needed to be delivered to the Exalt, immediately, and face-to-face.”

Lucina frowned. “Thank you for your message. Bring Laurent to my study, and let him know that I will join him shortly.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Ellen gave another awkward bow and hurried out, barely managing to keep her balance as her boots skidded against the wet stones.

Severa watched her subordinate leave before turning back to Lucina. “What do you think this is about?”

“I’m not sure,” said Lucina. She climbed out of the pool, wringing water from her hair before reaching for a dry towel. “But whatever it was, Laurent thought it was important enough to break his usual schedule and bring the message personally. We shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

“We?”

Lucina wrapped herself in the towel, raising her eyebrows at Severa. “Of course both of us should hear the message. You’re already privy to many of my ‘secrets,’ since you’ve taken it upon yourself to become my assistant. If this could have an effect on matters of state, then you would learn about it anyway. And since you’ve been acting as my bodyguard as well…”

“I do my best to be useful in as many ways as possible,” said Severa. “If you’re sure about it, I’ll come with you. But let’s get dressed first, okay?”

The Exalt laughed. “Good idea.”

 

Ten minutes later, dressed in clean clothes and with still-damp hair, Lucina and Severa entered the Exalt’s study.

Laurent was already there, standing stiffly by the window with his hands folded behind him. He bowed shallowly as the others arrived.

“Your Grace. Severa. Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”

“We knew you would not have visited so suddenly if you did not consider the matter to be urgent,” said Lucina.

“Then I will cut right to the heart of the matter,” said Laurent. “Inigo and Brady have sent word from their mission.”

“I take it this was not a routine report?”

“Not in the slightest. It seems that they may have an opportunity to meet with the new leader of Plegia.”

“The… new leader?” Severa frowned. “I didn’t think they’d be able to restore order so quickly after King Validar’s theocracy fell apart.”

“King Validar’s government may have fallen, but the religious hierarchy of the Grimleal remains firmly in place.” Laurent rubbed at his forehead. “In fact, it’s the priests who have prevented Plegia from falling into the same chaos as Valm.”

“At least they’re good for something.”

“What can you tell us about this leader?” said Lucina, folding her arms.

“To tell the truth? Not much.” Laurent grimaced. “Much of what we know is hearsay and rumor, and I’m not sure how much of that information can be considered credible. Nonetheless...”

“Share what you’ve got, and we’ll judge for ourselves,” said Severa.

“Very well.” Laurent cleared his throat. “The new leader is a hierophant, one of the highest-ranking of his order. Though he bears the Mark of Grima, rumor has it that he is unusually young for his station. No one knows for certain, as he keeps his face shrouded in a hood to veil his identity.”

“A hierophant of the Grimleal.” Lucina looked thoughtful. “That’s the same position that King Validar held before he took the throne, isn’t it?”

“Precisely. There are even rumors that he’s one of Validar’s descendants. Some even consider him to be another vessel of Grima.”

“ _Another_ one? You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.” Severa slammed a fist into her palm. “After all the trouble we went through to get rid of the first one, too…”

“I very much doubt that is true,” said Laurent. “From what I have gleaned of the Grimleal’s system of beliefs, only a Fellblood of the purest descent can channel Grima’s strength.”

“We still possess the Fire Emblem and the Gemstones as well,” said Lucina. “Without them, the seal on Grima will remain intact.”

“Indeed. But that is not the most disturbing of the rumors that have come to my attention.”

“Oh gods, it isn’t?”

“No.” Laurent’s expression turned grim. “There is a rumor that the hierophant bears another brand.”

Glancing at Lucina, Severa saw the blood drain from her face as Laurent spoke again.

“The Brand of the Exalt.”

_The… what?!_

There was a tense silence before Lucina spoke again, her voice strained.

“You did well to bring this information to me immediately. Thank you, Laurent.”

“Of course.”

Lucina paced over to the window, looking out into the gathering darkness. “It’s getting late. I suggest you remain here until morning. If you ask one of the servants, they can prepare a guest room for you.”

“Thank you, Lucina.”

“Rest well, Laurent. You are dismissed.”

With a deferent nod, the mage made his way out of the study.

Almost as soon as he was gone, Lucina slumped against the wall, taking a deep, unsteady breath. Severa’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Lucina, are you—?!”

The Exalt waved her off. “I’m… fine. I was just taken by surprise.”

“What, by that idiotic rumor?” Severa gave Lucina a dubious look. “Huh, the Brand of the Exalt. As if…”

Lucina shook her head. “On the contrary, it make sense.”

“Are you crazy?”

“No. In fact, had I been thinking clearly, I would have realized that this was almost inevitable.”

“Lucina, you’re not making any sense.”

“I…” Lucina’s shoulders slumped. “Forgive me. I was not thinking clearly.”

“About what?”

“This is not information with which you would be familiar, but… you deserve to know.”

Severa was feeling more and more confused by the minute. “What do you mean?”

“The truth is, I had…” Lucina took a deep breath. “I _have_ a younger brother.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun DUN _DUNNNNN_...
> 
> The plot twist that I have been waiting months to make rears its head at last. I could only prevaricate about Morgan's role in this for so long, but now the secret's out! ~~and I fooled all of you into thinking that this was only a love story... ohohoho~~
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment (or scream at me [on tumblr](https://occasionallydiverting.tumblr.com/post/157661186561/secret-dreamer-chapter-21-foreboding))


	22. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucina confides the truth about her family, which turns out to be more complicated than Severa had ever realized.

Severa blinked, momentarily at a loss for words.

_Is she saying what I think she’s saying?_

She couldn’t stop a nervous giggle from escaping her. “So your brother’s a priest of Grima? That can’t be true, can it?”

“I fear that it is.”

Severa shook her head, still incredulous. “But he’s… he’s the _Exalt’s_ son. Doesn’t that go against everything they stand for?”

“No.” Lucina shuddered. “There is more to his lineage—to _our_ lineage than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Before my father was killed, before the Fell Dragon stole her flesh and devoured her mind… Grima’s Vessel was my mother.”

Lucina’s words pierced Severa like a spike of ice. A memory from the final battle came rushing back—the slim, dark-cloaked woman whose power had brought all of them to their knees. _Lucina’s mother…_

“Gods,” said Severa, her voice numb. “I didn’t… I never knew.”

“You weren’t meant to.” Lucina paced back toward the window, her breathing unsteady. “None of you were. Your father and mother feared that if it became common knowledge, the people would turn against me. For her to be a Plegian was one thing, but the bearer of Grima’s Brand…”

“And you…” An image flashed in front of Severa’s eyes: Lucina’s sword piercing the Vessel’s heart, blazing with the light of the Awakening.

Lucina’s voice was hollow. “I killed her. It was the only way.”

“Lucina, that thing… whatever it was, it wasn’t your mother—”

“But it was! Don’t you see?” Lucina turned back to Severa, a note of anguish in her voice. “Grima hesitated before the end… left me an opening. My mother’s body might have been seized, but her spirit was still there.”

There was a moment of silence as Severa processed her Exalt’s words. It was clear to her that she wouldn’t be able to change Lucina’s mind on this—and besides, there were more immediate matters to consider.

“And your brother?”

“Morgan. That’s his name. When Mother vanished after she…” Lucina’s voice caught for a moment before she continued. “After Father died, she took Morgan with her.”

Severa could feel a headache coming on at the torrent of new information. _He vanished_ after _Chrom died? But that doesn’t make any sense…_

She voiced her confusion. “If it happened then, wouldn’t we know about him?”

“Normally, yes. But…” The Exalt shifted uncomfortably. “Noire’s parents saw to it. When Morgan vanished, the rest of you were inconsolable, afraid it might be you next, constantly worried… Henry said he couldn’t bear to see it. So he and Tharja devised a curse, to fix what they saw as the root of the problem. And all of you agreed to it.”

“We… did?”

Lucina’s voice was soft. “Yes.”

“Gods…” Severa stared at the floor, feeling sick. _But you didn’t, did you, Lucina?_

_You’ve been carrying this burden alone, all this time, and none of us ever realized it. What does that say about our friendship?_

“Lucina, I—”

The Exalt cut in to stop Severa, smiling wanly. “If you’re about to apologize, please don’t. I alone bear responsibility for the choices that I made. The fault is not yours.”

“But I couldn’t do anything to help you!”

“Severa, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Severa lifted her eyes to meet Lucina’s. “Yes?”

“I _chose_ this. I saw it as my royal duty—to keep it a secret from everyone else, to keep the burden from them. And with the passing of time, I had almost convinced myself that it no longer mattered—that I could simply forget.” Her shoulders sagged in weariness. “I was wrong.”

“I guess I can understand why you wouldn’t want to keep it to yourself anymore,” said Severa. “But I still don’t know why you’re telling _me_.”

“Because I know that I can trust you,” said Lucina simply. She glanced over at the door. “If Laurent knew, he might worry that my emotions were clouding my judgment—and he’d probably be right. If Morgan really is a threat, I don’t know if I would have the resolve to… to deal with him.”

“But you can’t just give up on him either.” Severa finished the thought her Exalt had started. “Because he hasn’t given you any reason to suspect him yet, and he’s still your brother.”

Lucina looked relieved. “I knew you would understand. You know my mind in a way that nobody else does.”

“We’ve been together for a long time,” said Severa with an offhand shrug. “When you fight at a friend’s side for this long, you’re bound to pick up a few of their thinking patterns.” _Doubly so, if you’re already motivated to find out more about that friend…_

Lucina laughed—a quick and nervous sound, but a laugh nonetheless. “Exactly. To be honest, that’s one of the other reasons I told you. I feel guilty that I’ve kept it from you for so long, especially since you’ve never kept any secrets from me.”

Severa laughed, too, but it was hollow. “Don’t worry, Lucina. I’ll keep this to myself until you’re ready to bring it into the open. Until then we’ll try to figure out how to deal with this together.” She nodded to the papers on Lucina’s desk. “We can just think of it as another problem to be solved. We’ve gotten pretty good at that, right?”

The Exalt rubbed at her forehead, letting out a long, pent-up breath. “…Yes, of course.” She smiled wanly. “Thank you, Severa. Without your advice, I’d probably worry myself into an early grave.”

Severa winced at the phrasing but let it pass without comment. “Well, right now, my advice is that you get some sleep. It’s already getting late, and staying up worrying won’t do either of us any good.”

“True enough.” Lucina waved languidly. “Goodnight, Severa.”

Severa gave her friend a flourishing bow as she backed out the door. “Sleep well, Your Grace.”

She could hear Lucina’s soft laughter as she closed the door behind her, and she took comfort from that. _At least I can help to ease her mind._

Severa waited until the telltale light of the candle-flame had disappeared from under the Exalt’s door before heading off to her own room.

As she walked through the darkened halls, her mind continued to dwell on their conversation—the trust that the Exalt had shown her, and the heart of what they had discussed.

_“You’ve never kept any secrets from me.”_

Lucina’s words had pierced her more deeply than any lance. _There are no secrets between us, save one. And I may never have the courage to tell._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the shortest chapter I've posted in a while, but the longest in recent memory, so I'm simply glad to have finished _something_.
> 
> A quick update on my life, for those who might have wondered: I've been struggling with depression, anxiety, and attention disorders over the past few months, and with all of that going on I had convinced myself that anything I would produce in that mental state would be a letdown to everyone who reads my work. It wasn't until I conversed with my sister a few days ago that I realized the flaw in that kind of thinking.
> 
> It's better to do something and risk disappointment than to do nothing out of fear of failure.
> 
> So, to all my readers: thank you for staying with me this far. And I hope you continue to watch me as I continue on.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're bored and seeking out other things to look at, I also have a [tumblr](http://occasionallydiverting.tumblr.com/) (mainly used for whatever humorous thing happens to be on my mind) and a [WordPress](https://occasionallydiverting.wordpress.com/) (mainly used for anime reviews and other original writings that don't necessarily fit with any fandoms).
> 
> Secret Dreamer now has [a TVTropes page!](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/FanFic/SecretDreamer)


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